


Lacho Calad! Drego Morn! Flame Light! Flee Darkness!

by Tobiramamara



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 109,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27595406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobiramamara/pseuds/Tobiramamara
Summary: Armed with only her sword a girl stumbles upon Elladan and Elrohir in Middle Earth. How will she find her place in between them through battle, bloodshed, rage and madness? How can one strange girl heal everything broken and damaged? Elladan & Elrohir x OC.
Relationships: Elladan & Elrohir (Tolkien) & Original Female Character(s), Elladan/Elrohir (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 21





	1. 1. Middle Earth in a northern forest...

1.

Middle Earth: in a northern forest.

The fight was too fast for mortal eyes to follow, only the spray of blood betrayed the movement of their swords. They were fair of face. fearless and gallant as Elf warriors could be. Moving in sync, agile and lean, their movements like water. Their stern faces betrayed no emotion as they slayed their enemies, cutting through their flesh. Internally they relished the resistance of the tissue against the sharpness of their blades, how they had to put speed and force behind the cut to penetrate the skins and flesh. They relished every cry of pain they caused. They made their enemies suffer with intent, the wounds they inflicted never lethal, but always painful. 

They hunted their enemies relentlessly. Always taking unnecessary risks, provoking, hunting, ambushing, murdering. It was a means of survival for them. They could let the reins they held over their hatred go for a few fleeting moments while fighting. And they needed that momentary lack of control. Without it, they would have faded centuries ago. They needed these moments of total madness and bloodlust to stay sane.

When the fight was over and the last of their enemies had perished they stood in between the corpses, dazed, slowly regaining their composure, catching their breath. The smell of blood and guts was strong, lingering between the trees, stuck on their skins. As if by a miracle, there was not a spot of blood on their clothing. They liked the smell of blood and death. They loved the way their bodies remembered the fights afterwards, on edge, worn down, bruised, injured. It was the only way for their mind and body to feel connected. Only this amount of hurt, exhaustion and adrenaline made the union of their body and mind feel temporarily balanced. 

While walking through the forest towards their horses, a dense fog was emerging from the trees, feeling cold and moist on their skin. The change in atmosphere was a welcome one. Their senses were heightened by the adrenaline, and their sweating skin cooled off quickly, making their minds clear and sharp. They found their animals unharmed and still relaxed. The food they were eating was still lying on the large boulder, as evidence of their sudden departure when they sensed their enemies. Packing the food in the saddlebags, they saddled the horses slowly. 

Darkness stretched over their heads above the fog. A few stars visible, their faint light, almost invisible for mortal eyes, guided them in the forest. They needed to leave this place, to reach the plains and the land beyond it quickly. The odds were against them. They were reckless but not stupid; two dozen of orc they sensed and some warg, numbers that even two Elf warriors of their might could not take on. 

Suddenly, the forest became quiet. They stopped their movements, listening. A low humming sound was echoing in between the trees around them, it’s unfamiliarity making them wary. Wondering if this was some trick of the enemy, they shared a look of understanding. Then quickly parted ways silently: one taking off stealthily to find the source of the sound, the other kept on preparing a quick departure. The only sound that he emitted was soft singing to the horses to keep them calm. 

\-----------------------

Earth, Japan, around now

The road leading through the woods to her uncle’s cabin, was not very wide and it was only barely visible in the silvery moonlight. Her bike was silent except for the bicycle chain, that made a pleasant smooth rattling sound that soothed her overworked brain. The cold night air gave her mild goosebumps. The chill was a great contrast to her overheated body. Her skin was blissfully bare for the cold air to touch, wearing only small black shorts with a racerback top. Where the messenger bag with her katana attached to the top, met the skin on her back, there was an uncomfortable hotness. 

The woods were eerie silent, only a small hooting owl seemed to occupy the trees around her. She kept on cycling on the uneven path, bracing herself for every hole and dent, standing on the pedals, keeping her arms flexibel at the elbows, her gloved hands gripping the handles loosely but secure. 

She loved cycling at night. She didn’t carry light, so she was dependant on the shimmer of the moon. Her night vision was good, she could see the small path glowing in the darkness. This added to the rush that she experienced from racing in between the trees. Suddenly she became aware of a low humming sound. Barely noticeable over the rattling of her bike. 

She squeezed the breaks and stopped abruptly, panting in the night air. When the sound of her breathing died down, she sharpened her hearing to locate the strange humming, but it seemed to have disappeared. She stood there for a few minutes, listening intently. What could it have been? She was miles away from the nearest outskirt of town. There was no traffic here. 

After awhile she decided that she imagined it and proceeded to cycle further into the woods. She kept being vigilant, trying to hear the sound again, but it did not return. Puzzled she reached the cabin at last.

She took the bike on her shoulder easily and walked up the steps to put it on the porch. The key was hidden in its usual spot. Inside a small battery powered light turned on automatically. She threw her messenger bag on the ground where it landed with a dull thud. First she hung her katana on a custom made support on the wall. Then she quickly put on a hoodie before her body cooled off too much. 

After making a fire in the wood stove that was standing in the center of the cabin she showered. The water was cold as ice. She knew it would make her feel extra warm afterwards. Her long black hair balanced in a loose bun on the top of her head, evading the water. When she had dried off and padded towards the woodstove, she was still shivering. 

Standing in front of the stove, she put her favorite hand dyed indigo momohiki pants on. These traditional pants closed with straps around the waist and were comfortably baggy, around the calves the fabric became more tight. On her neck she wore a black buff that she could pull up over her mouth and nose in case of biting wind on the bike. She wore a sports bra with racerback. She didn’t really need one, but she felt more comfortable in it. Over it a black racerback top and a tight black hoodie. Black and indigo made her feel comfortable. 

The bruise was not too bad she decided. It was located just underneath her cheekbone on the left side. Hideo managed to pierce her defence work again. She sighed, she would never beat him, unless it was in the bedroom during their rare sexual encounters. She played out the match in her head again, going over her mistakes while staring in the mirror. After awhile she snapped out of her thoughts and sighed. Pulling the buff upward to her chin she padded over to her bag. 

Unpacking the cooked rice she prepared at home she sat with a sigh on her knees in front of the fire. Thoughtfully chewing she thought about Hideo. Training was her life, but it frustrated her that she never seemed to win from him. What was the difference between them? Their training schedules were the same, their mental motivation equal. Was it because she was a girl? She refused to think that. Maybe it mattered in other sports where physical weight or strength was important, but in sword fighting it was all about agility, flexibility, grace and endurance. She was his equal on those points. 

Hideo told her once after a steamy sex session, lying lazy in bed during the day, that she thought too much. She needed to trust her feeling and body and turn off her brain. She needed to let herself go. 

And there was the problem, right there. She could admit it to herself. She could not let go. She was scared to let go and to give in to darker emotions and things her instincts wanted. There must be another way to better herself, there must be.

She put the empty container on the ground and leaned against the couch. Staring into the flames, she felt peaceful, warm and content. Her mind lulled itself into silent submission. 

It all seemed to come down to only two things in life: mind and body. That was what she was fighting against her whole life, her mind and her body. She closed her eyes letting her head fall backwards, dozing off. 

A slow sound startled her. She sat up straight. The sound! She heard it again! Quickly she put on her sandals and walked to the door, stopping only to take the katana from the wall and attaching it with a custom made strap on her back. Pulling up her hoodie she stepped outside, only to notice that the cabin was surrounded by a dense deep fog, like an island in a white ocean. 

Hesitantly she stepped out of the door onto the porch, closing it behind her until she heard the familiar faint click. The humming seemed to originate from behind the house, further into the woods. She swallowed audibly but she was more puzzled than scared. Picking up a small lantern from the porch and pulling up her buff till over her nose, she stepped into the fog. 

While walking towards the sound, she made sure to keep a straight line. After fifty meters, she noticed that the sound changed direction quickly. 

Well. That was just downright creepy. 

She shivered involuntarily. She was experienced enough in survival to realise it was easy to get lost under these circumstance. The whole thing was puzzling, but it was not worth to get lost over in the middle of the night. She walked back to the cabin. She knew the woods well and recognized the trees. She would reach it in seconds. 

Instead she didn’t. Instead the trees became unfamiliar. The bark on the pine trees became lighter until the trunks seemed almost white, causing a strange effect in the grey fog around her. It gave the forest a weightless atmosphere. 

The hairs in her neck seemed to rise, fear spiking in her stomach. What was going on? She could not be lost right? 

If she didn’t know any better, she would think herself to be lost in a cheesy horror movie. Was it that easy to get lost? She turned around. In search for the familiar trees again. But after awhile she still saw only the trees with the white trunks. She tried to evade reality in her mind, but she just knew that these trees did not exist in this forest. She never saw trees like this in her life. 

She started to panic now. Jogging through the fog. The katana on her back was a comforting weight. It was no use calling out, there was nobody here. So she kept her fear inside of herself. But it kept growing until she felt that she was almost losing control. Where was she? It was evident that she was not in the forest that she knew, which was impossible. 

Suddenly she heard a horse whinnying. She came to an abrupt halt. A horse? What was happening here? But she had no other option than to check this out. It felt claustrophobic to be running around a foggy wood seeing only tree trunks. 

She heard the sound a few more times, so she had a good sense of its direction. Out of reflex she unsheathed her sword, the hissing sound of the metal seemed abnormally loud. But the grip gave her a sense of security. 

Before she had a visual on the horse, she felt a presence behind her and she whirled around her sword following the movement of her body. Her lantern fell to the ground, disabling her sight. The metal made a loud clang, colliding with another blade. She recognized the sound immediately. Her sword was blocked with two quick moves from her opponent and she felt the cold metal touching her neck within seconds.

Her breath seemed to be missing and her heart stopped momentarily. She felt like she was glued to the ground. 

A harsh male voice spoke. One clipped word that she did not understand: “Daro!” 

She wanted to speak, to beg for the man not to hurt her, but her tongue was stuck in her mouth, her throat dry. The words caught deep inside her. She felt angry with herself for being this frightened. The pressure of the metal disappeared and more clipped words were spoken.

Realising she must look suspect with only her eyes visible, she slowly raised her hands to remove her hood and buff while facing the man that was before her. 

The man had picked up the lantern, still pointing his blad at her. Her mouth fell open in awe. In the small circle of white light his raven black hair shone and his grey eyes gave a silvery glint. His face was of a timeless beauty. If she would have to guess his age, she would be at a loss. His eyes were very peculiar, radiating high intelligence and a wisdom that was beyond his years, which sounded absurd, like something from a fairy tale. But there was no other way to describe them. 

His presence was overwhelming, but she could not pin down what this entailed exactly. He looked regal and stoic, while he stared into her eyes. Charisma or strong character could not explain his presence, it felt as if he were charged with some power, not visible for the eye, but that could only be felt with other senses. Senses that she had been unaware of before. His smell made her stagger mentally. A potent smell of horses mixed with woodfire, sweat, urine and something earthy and masculine hit her nose. This was an alien smell and seemed to taint his handsome face. People did not smell like this, in this age of showers and soap. 

He was staring at her intently, no emotions visible in his face except the workings of his brain behind his eyes. He wore his hair pulled back on top, braided on the sides, which revealed the pointed tips of his ears. She gaped at him. This was just a dream! It had to be! He could not be an elf right? He must be a cosplayer, right? But some voice in the back of her head did not believe it.

He spoke more words, less clipped, his face unreadable. She finally found her voice and replied in her own tongue, which seemed to puzzle him. “I don’t understand.. Please… I mean no harm…” 

He motioned for her to step forward, pointing in the direction where she heard the horse. She started walking towards the darkness. She had no doubt that he was having his sword ready behind her in case she would run away. 

In a small clearing stood another man beside two stallions. Panic gripped her once again. Two men, two maniacs with swords! This was getting disturbing and dangerous now. She could take one man with a sword, but two? 

When she approached the second man, the light of her lantern fell on him. His features disorientated her momentarily. What was going on? His face was an exact copy of the man behind her. She turned around to look at her captor to convince herself. 

Too slow she realised they must be twins. This was not good. Her fear was influencing her mind. 

The brother was just saddling the horse, strapping a long and beautiful sword in front of it, the blade slightly curved. He looked mildly surprised at her appearance, talking rapidly to his brother in that strange language. They seemed to differ in opinion. After a short while, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her neck and she lost consciousness.


	2. She woke up to a world that was nearing dusk...

She woke up to a world that was nearing dusk. Opening her eyes carefully she took a while to take in her surroundings. A small fire was burning next to her, the warmth penetrating her limbs. The forest and the fog had made place for a low kind of vegetation, tough looking shrubs and boulders but no trees. A clear sky with unfamiliar stars stretched out above her. The sun had only just disappeared from the horizon. The zenit was a dark ink blue, slowly fading out to soft pastels near the horizon. 

She tried to move, but the bruise on her face hurt and she groaned. 

Immediately she heard shuffling next to her and warm hands helped her upright. While sitting up she noticed that her hands were tied behind her back, the rope cutting her skin. 

One thought entered her mind like lightning: her katana! Where was it? 

She looked frantically around ignoring the stares of the twins. She located it strapped to the saddle of a large grey stallion. She sighed. It was safe. A distant part of her was reassured that her fear of losing that sword seemed stronger than the fear for her own wellbeing. That gave her some hope that she would keep a level mind, level enough to make it out of this situation alive. 

The brothers seemed to instinctively guess the workings of her brain. The one that captured her motioned to the sword and spoke, his words calm and soft. It sounded friendly, but she could not understand. After awhile he said in a slow determined voice: “Do you speak common tongue my lady?” 

She was surprised that he knew English, although his accent was strange. It reminded her of something southern, soft and singing. But it was unlike any accent that she ever heard in her life. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his grey ones and nodded. 

He smiled softly. “Please forgive us, my lady. These lands are full of enemies. We did not recognize your attire or weapon and almost could not decipher your accent. We thought it best to pacify you quickly until we reached a safer spot.” 

She stared at him, not understanding.

He tried again: “The forest is an evil place. Orcs and Wargs lurking everywhere.” he spat the last words out. 

“Orcs?” She felt like she was losing her mind. Orcs? That was an invention from J.R.R. Tolkien right? This was just impossible. But here she was, in an unknown landscape with two elves. Almost every bone in her body felt it: she was no longer home. 

“Please, you must eat something my lady.” he hesitated for a moment. “I will untie your hands, but do not betray our trust. You cannot outrun us in these lands.” His old eyes penetrated hers and she looked away, nodding in aprehension. 

He kneeled down to cut her ties and his smell overwhelmed her modern nose again making her flinch. He interpreted her reaction as fear and smiled to reassure her and offered her some food. She rubbed her wrists. The rope left an angry red imprint in them. 

She ate a few bites from the bread but focussed on the fruit mainly. She felt like her stomach could not bear something as heavy or dry as bread. The man or Elf rather, handed her a roughly carved wooden cup with water and she drank eagerly. 

When she finished, she stared at them curiously. Stuck in the wilderness with two Elves! They were just amazing to look at, their hair almost as black as that of her own. They both had it pulled backwards on top, on the side a complex pattern of braids showing off their ears. The hair fell in long tresses on their backs. The braids seemed the only thing that differed between them, the techniques were different. She guessed their hairstyle was mainly practical, since it would not fall into their eyes while riding or fighting. Their eyes were of a light grey that seemed to flicker silver when the light changed. Their features were nobel, finely chiseled, but very male; a strong jawline, high cheekbones and graceful straight eyebrows, their lips full but straight. 

They were dressed in grey and black colors. Their clothing patched and worn down from travel. Each wore a heavy light-grey cape with a beautiful wooden clasp in the shape of a running wolf at their neck. There were no other adornments. Even the sheaths of their swords were made of a dull black leather. 

Their movements disclosed their warrior physique. They moved with a panther-like grace. Smooth hard muscles showing through their clothes. She was attentive to detail and the callous on their hands betrayed intensive sword fighting, almost daily. 

She recognized them for what they were easily: she was captured by two seasoned and highly experienced warriors. There were not many sword fighters who could take her on in her own world. But here in Middle Earth looking upon two Elf warriors, she quickly decided her experience was meaningless until she proved herself. She would do well to not underestimate them. 

She wondered what they thought about her. She must look odd in her modern clothing, wearing pants and a foreign sword.

xxxxxxxxxx

She happened upon none other than Elrohir and Elladan, Elrond’s sons. And like she suspected, they were exceedingly puzzled by this strange girl that they found in the woods. As was their habit, they were hunting for orcs and warg, cleansing the lands of their foul presence and keeping track of the movement of the Enemy. 

They did not expect a girl in those woods. She was human, but strange looking. Her hair was as if dyed in ink, her eyes were dark slits almost, slightly slanted. They never saw a human with eyes like that. Her body was petite and slender but agile like a willow reed. 

She carried a sword of peculiar shape and unknown origin. The design beautiful in its simplicity. It was not uncommon for she-elves to carry swords, but humans were another matter. Her hands were calloused in such a way that pointed to heavy daily sword practice. When they secured her to the horse, they noticed her hard muscled body and a fresh bruise on her right cheek. 

However improbable, she seemed to be a warrior like themselves. It surprised them, there were not many women practising the art of sword fighting. But instead of judging her warrior identity as an indecency, they were eager to see her wielding that blade. They were master sword fighters themselves, not many could compete with their fighting skills in Middle-Earth and they were curious to her style. Even her clothing staved her status as warrior; male looking and made from strange black fabric, als black as her hair. They were of practical design, clearly made for moving. They secretly made up their mind: they suited her. 

And then there was her peculiar attachment to her weapon. It was the first thing on her mind when she woke up. Only when she noticed it strapped to Elladan’s horse did she relax. This sword was her most prized possession, there was no doubt. They thought it comforting that she only feared the loss of her blade. Her lack of fear for her own wellbeing would make their survival in the wilderness easier. 

There were more strange things about the girl that they could not place: her accent was strange, harsh. It reminded them of the languages of the north of bygone eras. But those languages had died and their sound had not been heard in Middle Earth for centuries. Even her smell was strange, clean and flowery, as if she took an extensive bath in the woods where they found her. It was odd. She seemed to hail from far beyond the borders of Middle Earth. She looked and felt like an outsider to them. 

Her lantern seemed a device developed by the Enemy, its source of power invisible, the light unlike anything they ever encountered in Middle Earth. They tucked it away in one of the horses’ saddle bags. Afraid to use it again. It strengthened their judgement of her: they needed to bring her to their father. He would not want to let her roam the lands without debriefing her, she was too strange. She might be holding valuable information or be a spy for the enemy.

Imladris was a journey of many days still, she could not stay unconscious permanently. So they decided to treat her well to make the trip more relaxed and easy. They would catch her if she ran, they could each take turns in keeping watch. They might learn from her in the meantime. Get information from her that their father might not. 

She would slow them down though. Mortals needed a lot of sleep to survive. They would have to give up on their normal travelling pace. If they encountered orcs, they suspected she could fight, but she was human, and female, her strength would be nothing compared to the northern orcs. They would have to watch over her to keep her alive.

She was a child in their eyes. She did not reach 25 years yet it seemed. She was sitting on the sandy soil stretching her feet towards the warmth of the fire. She wore open shoes, also of simple design, one strap around her ankles and one over her toes. 

The brothers were wise. They deemed it improbable that she was an orc spy, but they kept room for some doubt. The Enemies workings were evil and subtle and not even Elf Lords could always discern lies from truth. The brothers were prepared for everything, but for now, they could only sense goodness in her eyes. She seemed to contain no evil. Only bitterness and pain just below the surface of her eyes. They wondered if she realised herself that it was there. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Her angry voice tore them out of their reveries: “Where I am from it is polite to introduce yourself first to a stranger instead of hitting them.” 

They blinked at the crude manner in which she addressed them. Elrohir bit at her: “And where are you from, stranger?” 

She deserved that. Gritting her teeth, she snapped: “Nanda yo omae-wa?* First your names!” 

Elrohir merely shrugged, not impressed by her apparent cursing and accusations. But Elladan, her capturer said: “I think it not too late for politeness my lady, Elladan I am called, son of Elrond Peredhel, and this is my brother Elrohir. Please forgive us for doing you injustice.” 

She staggered inwardly. Elladan and Elrohir! Shimatta! She was in a Lord of the Rings story! This was not happening. NOT happening!!

But it was happening. And they were looking at her expectantly. Trying to keep her face impassive, she said with a dry throat: “My name is Shimizu Rin. You can call me Rin.” 

“Rin?”

He rolled the word in his mouth, almost like tasting it. He said: ”What a beautiful and strange name my lady. Short and simple but beautiful, like the design of your blade. Does it have a meaning?” 

“It means ‘severe or dignified’. Shimizu means ‘clear water’.” 

“It seems that you carry a name that is as intriguing as strange...Rin…we are looking forward to make your acquaintance. But be warned. Do not cross us, or we will cease to be friend and turn into foe.” 

She held her chin up defiantly: “Am I your captive?” 

He looked somewhat apologetic: “I would rather not use that phrasing. I rather see you as our guest and we will guard your safety in these lands. But we are bound to bring you to our father who resides in Imladris.” 

“Imladris?” 

“Maybe you are more familiar with the name Rivendell?” 

“And if I do not wish to go there with you?” 

“I am afraid you have no choice Rin. Our chance encounter might be influenced by other forces. Our father will debrief you. If your words are true and you pose no threat you are no doubt free to return home.” 

“Home….” she contemplated on the concept and fell silent. 

Elladan cocked his head to the side, noticing her hesitation: “Do you not wish to go home?” 

She stared into the distance and said: “I do not have a home.” 

“But you must hail from somewhere?” 

She fell silent, deep in thought. It was obvious that he tried very subtly to prie information from her, she was very tempted to just tell them her story. But she only said: “I will go with you willingly and will not break your trust.” Then silent for a heartbeat and hesitantly: “Your father, if he is a wise man. Maybe he can guide me to find my home.” 

Elladan looked slightly confused but smiled warmly. “A wiser man than my father is not easy to find. He will offer you council if it is needed.” 

She nodded silently at his words.

“Rin, I must warn you. Rivendell is still many leagues from here and many challenges lie ahead of us. You must follow our directions for your own safety.” Elladan spoke softly, staring at her intently. “We will take turns riding with you during the day to not fatigue our horses.” 

“Challenges?” 

“Yes, challenges. We hunt the Enemy. That is our purpose. Your mortality is a problem. If we encounter enemies we will destroy them and you need to defend yourself. Are you experienced with that blade?” 

“Only as a sport” 

“Sport?” Elladan looked confused.

“Yes, sport. Practicing for pleasure and honour and to maintain physical health? Not to use in a real fight.” 

Elrohir looked up then, his low voice drenched with menace: “Tch....you better ready yourself then girl. If you face your enemy as a sport, your life is forfeit.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, but Elladan smiled apologetic to her. “Forgive my brother Rin. He only speaks when necessary and will not concern himself with the feelings of others. It is nothing personal.” 

Elrohir grunted, getting up briskly, walking to the edge of the firelight. He positioned himself on a big boulder with a smooth top, pulling his cloak around him, the colour melting with the dusk. 

“I vowed not to kill.” 

Elladan frowned at her statement. “I am uncertain why you would make a vow like that Rin. It is a vow that threatens your survival in the wilderness. Please reconsider or your safety will be uncertain.” 

She bit her lip, thinking of the pain of her past. She wasn’t completely honest. She had vowed to not kill their enemies, but let justice run its course. This was different. If she would refuse to kill she would risk her own safety but also theirs, since it was obvious that they wanted to escort her to Rivendell alive. 

“It is a special vow reserved for my enemies. I have never killed, but I understand your concerns. So I hereby promise you that I won’t hesitate when I need to defend myself or one of you.”

Elladan looked surprised at her last remark. Elrohir laughed out loud from his high seat. Apparently Elven ears were extremely good. She made a mental note of that. 

She snapped at them: “What can I say… you have not seen me fight yet.” 

“I must say that I look forward to that occasion.” Elladan stared at her without laughing, his eyes penetrating hers, a dark look in his features. She could not place it and she was taken aback by his reaction. They were a bit odd, those brothers, she decided. 

She looked into the fire again, her mind going haywire. It was too much to take in. How did she get here? What kind of danger was she in exactly? What if she go hurt? There was no hospital here, she could die easily. While her mind was whirling with questions, she noticed Elladan’s eyes resting on her. His eyes seemed to be glued to her, as if he tried to extract all her secrets by just watching her. And she had the eerie feeling that he could do just that.

Suddenly he smiled at her, his eyes soft. “Just try to get some sleep lady Rin… we have a long day ahead of us.” 

“Please call me just Rin. I have not earned such a title.” 

“Very well Rin” he said warmly. 

Satisfied, she lay down on the ground. It was cold and she was shivering. Elladan seemed to notice this and offered her his mantle. “Elves do not experience cold like humans Rin. Please take it.” He lay the mantle over her small form. “Are you in pain?” 

“Just that bruise....”

Elladan put his hand on her cheek and she felt a lightness entering there. The throbbing pain was still there but seemed less invasive all of a sudden. She relaxed instantly despite the intimate gesture that felt just odd, since they barely knew each other. 

“Is this elf magic?”

“Magic? I do not know what you mean. I am just putting my hand on that bruise.” 

He started to hum a soft melody that seemed to penetrate her emotions, making her feel peaceful. She opened her mouth to speak but a sudden tiredness waved over her and she disappeared into darkness. 

\------

When the girl finally seemed to be sleeping the brothers softly discussed their new companion. 

“I think this child is innocent, brother. Her words ring of truth.” 

Elrohir shrugged. “You inherited fathers talent for detecting the truth. It is not my talent. My talent is to distrust that which seems innocent.” 

Elladan smiled. He knew his brother all too well. “Fine. You stay vigilant then and watch my back brother.” 

“Aye, I will. You will thank me if things go amiss.” He sniffed the air, staring into the distance. “Can you not feel the presence of the enemy? Their strategies and the timing of her appearance might be no mere coincidence.” 

Elladan looked at the stars. “The enemy is moving, yes. I can feel it too brother. We need to move before light is upon us or we will be hunted down all to quickly.” 

“We need to reach the forest, so we have the advantage.” 

“Aye, the forest. I long for those trees again.” Elladan said smiling. 

Elrohir nodded looking upon the starry night as well. “She is a puzzle, don’t you think brother? She seems other worldly. She looks like nothing we ever encountered.” 

Elladan grinned. “Aye, she seems alien to this world, but quite beautiful, don’t you think?” 

Elrohir looked at his brother sharply but couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, an alien beauty. And still a child.” he chided. 

“She is an adult in the human world.” 

“That is something I will never understand of mortals. How can she be an adult being not even 25 years of age? What experience does she have in life?” 

“We do not know her yet. Experience comes with living life to the fullest, with disappointment and success, sorrow and happiness. And death haunts every step of mortal live, making every choice in life meaningful and intense. Experience does not necessarily come with years.” 

“You are right I guess, as always.” he licked his lips: “She has a fine sword, I am like to see her wield it.” 

Ellandan looked at his brothers saddle where the hilt was sticking out. “Yes a very peculiar blade. I have never seen the likes of it in Middle Earth. Who knows brother, you might meet your equal in the art of the blade.” 

“Elbereth! A sword master hidden behind the mask of an innocent child! Alas! I will be doomed!” 

They shared a boyish grin and then they fell silent, enjoying the feel of the night around them and each others presence. They were not in need of words. While other twins might grow apart in adulthood, or go their separate ways, they prefered a life together. 

While they did socialize with others in Rivendell, they felt awkward being apart and lived together, sharing quarters, refusing to go separate ways in life. This routine had intensified after the tragic end of their mother who was kidnapped by orcs. They saved her in a brave solo rampage into the lair of the Enemy under the mountains. But she faded nevertheless, leaving Middle Earth by ship. Their grief drove them even further together, ignoring others in an almost sickly manner that worried their father and sister. Even more troublesome was their surrender to their urge for revenge, riding out whenever they could to hunt orcs, taking unnecessary risks. For the longest time Elrond thought his sons would fade by this darkness inside them, but it seemed that embracing their urges healed some part of them, creating a strange kind of balance. 

After centuries, the Elves in the House of Elrond had gotten used to the recluse twins and they earned respect for their deeds, whatever their motivation was. They monitored the borders of the North, forging an alliance with the Dunedain. They reported regularly to their father, providing him with the latest intelligence on the movement of the Enemy. The lands surrounding Elrond’s House would long be trampled by nightmares, if it was not for their ever present vigilance. 

They had no eye for other matters in life, like matters of the heart: elleths in search of love always met disappointment, because the brothers, in the end, always chose each other over outsiders. Within a culture where monogamy was the highest and most treasured way of celebrating love they stood out in a negative way. Elleths learned to keep their hearts away from them in danger of theirs being broken. And so, during their long lives love did not separate them. 

They did not mourn love. They cherished their love for each other. Their time in the wilderness was the most precious to them. The wilderness where they could be alone with their thoughts, the wind, the trees, the animals. And their old grief. The grief that seemed to only temporarily lessen when their blades cut through orc necks and orc blood splattered on their skins. 

They sat for a long time on the boulder. Listening to the life around them. They could sense the growth of the land, the longing for the warm light. It was more faint than the land of Hulst where the stones mourned loudly the passing of Elves long gone, but they could feel the life around them nevertheless. The sky stretched above them as a gigantic dome filled with stars. After some time Elladan wished his brother a good night and sat by the fire facing Rin. 

She looked peaceful sleeping. Her mouth was slightly open, a drop of saliva on her bottom lip reflected the light of the fire, giving her lips a sensual appeal. Her ink black hair shone in the flickering flames. Her finely chiseled features were relaxed giving her a fragile appearance which was deceitful. She did not look like a sword fighter sleeping there. He smiled, taking her in. Then he took on a meditative pose, sitting up straight, and stared sightless into the night. 

Nanda yo omae-wa? = Japanese: Who do you think you are?


	3. Elladan awoke her in the middle of the night. She rubbed…..

Elladan woke her in the middle of the night. She rubbed her eyes, squinting in the remnants of the fire. She looked up at the Elf: “What’s going on?” 

“We are leaving. The sun will rise in two hours. The enemy is nearing, we need to reach a place from where we have the advantage.” 

She felt the blood drain from her face and scrambled to her feet. They were not even going to evade those creatures, but meet them head on! This was not a survival mission to get her to Rivendell. This was a battle. She shuddered at the thought, fear creeping up her legs into her stomach. The cloak fell on the ground with a thud. Elladan bent to pick it up and draped it over her shoulders. “Keep it on, you will need it.” 

He guided her towards his brother who was already mounted on his horse, a white stallion with wild manes. Her sword was, probably intentionally, still strapped on the other animal. 

She looked apprehensive at the horse, hesitating. Elladan sensed her unease: “Are you not accustomed to horses?” 

“I have never ridden one.” 

Elrohir scowled at her. His brother looked at him pointedly. After a short stare between them, he silently offered her a hand which she took reluctantly. She felt the calloused warm skin. He pulled her in one swift motion on the horse and sat her down before him on the saddle. 

She stiffened when he reached around her to grasp the reigns. She felt his chest against her back, his warmth instantly penetrating her body, his strong body odor almost overwhelming her. He noticed her discomfort immediately but instead of the harsh words that she expected, he said softly in her ear: “Suldal will bear any rider that I order him to. He will not let you fall.” 

“Suldal?” 

“Aye. It means Windfoot. When we reach open terrain you will understand his name better.” 

Whilst speaking, his breath tickled her neck and ear, causing goosebumps that send a warmth to her belly which felt entirely inappropriate. She tried to ignore her body’s reaction and relax against his chest. But the warmth of the horse between her legs was not helping and Elrohir’s chest kept on heating not only her back but insides as well. After a few minutes, her hormones thankfully let her be and she could relax, surrendering to the slow movements of the horse and the man behind her. 

There was not much to see of their surroundings in the starlight. She could hear small sounds around her that she could not place and louder ones in the distance that seemed to come from fox like creatures. After a while, the steady movements of the horse were lulling her to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxx

When she woke again, dawn was upon them. Majestically the sun rose over the rugged terrain, giving the boulders large shadows. The low vegetation tainted red in the light of the upcoming sun, giving the grey boulders a dramatic touch. 

They moved slowly through the landscape, the boulders making it hard for the horses to move swiftly. She frowned. As if Elrohir could read her mind he said softly: “We will reach the plains soon. Then we can make haste through these lands. For now we will have to suffer this slow pace.” 

Time moved slowly, slow as the steady pace of the horses that trotted carefully through the rugged terrain. The elven brothers halted regularly. Elladan stood on high boulders from time to time, eyes closed with his nose in the wind, sensing his surroundings. Rin did not feel anything or hear anything suspicious. As she had noticed before, the Elves must have senses that differed greatly from those of mortals. 

From time to time, her mind was still reeling at the situation she found herself in. But the reality of her surroundings, the presence of these Elves, made her accept it almost easily. When she thought of home she did not feel emotional. There was no life, only her sword kept her company. Even Hideo was just a distraction to forget the pain, the pain of her parents and sister dying in that horrible event. 

But she did feel regret: she had a task to perform still at home. A task that would be impossible if she stayed trapped here in this strange world. She closed her eyes momentarily trying to evade the memories in her mind, taking deep breaths. She could not let herself wander there at this moment. 

Elrohir had been silent the whole day, stoically steering the horse. But he seemed to sense her distress immediately. He moved slightly in the saddle, pressing himself even more close to her and said gruffly in her ear: “Is something troubling you?” 

She frowned. Did he have a sixth sense or something? “No, I am ok.” she answered shortly. She really did not want to talk with him about these feelings. 

He seemed to sense her reluctance immediately “I thought I sensed darkness in your thoughts. I see I was wrong.” he said it in a clipped tone as well. 

She was startled by his tone of voice. Elrohir seemed to be a very closed up person. It was unwise to anger her captors and he seemed less forgiving and more harsh in his judgement than his brother. Would he close up even more when she immediately crushed this attempt to get in contact with her? 

Making up her mind, she said softly: “Forgive me. You did sense correctly. I was recalling a traumatic event, or I was trying to not recall it. It surprised and irritated me that you could tell so easily.” 

“I am of Elf blood.” he shrugged. As if it was the clearest fact in the world. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Tch… Elves have heightened perceptiveness, instead of mortals, mortals are short from blind.” he said irritable. 

“Well I never met an Elf before or a Half-Elf. All I have learned about now is that elves are quick to anger and short for words!” she quipped back. 

Elladan burst out in a happy laughter which made her grin. To her surprise, Elrohir bent his head towards her neck and whispered: “Careful there Rin. Elves are masters in battles of wit. Do not provoke me.” But for the first time she could just feel his smile shining through. 

She suddenly noticed that his hand lay on her left leg for a while now. Almost protectively. He seemed to notice the same and quickly took the reigns again. She could not help but think about his teasing that seemed not in pace with his character at first sight. Could it be that this more stern and grumpy brother just effectively made her angry on purpose to forget her dark thoughts?

“Let your mind not be troubled. We will soon have the wind blow any dark thought out of our heads.” He had not said it or the last boulders seemed to melt away in the landscape and the horses broke out in a thundering pace. She had no choice but to move with the pace of the horse and the elf behind her. The wind swept at her hair and made her eyes sting. The cold wind seemed to go right through the cape, waking her body up. 

And see! All dark thoughts were wiped out by the sheer adrenaline that took hold of her. And suddenly she laughed and yelled with all her might in the wind, sitting up straight in the saddle. Her voice a clear ringing sound that seemed to please both brothers. They grinned in unison at her euphoria, but kept concentrating on maintaining their fast pace, still vigilant of their foes. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

When the sun was at its highest point they made a first stop. They stretched their legs and ate a modest breakfast. Then Elrohir took her sword from Elladan’s saddle and strapped it on his own. He noticed her eyes following him but he ignored her. 

When he was done he turned towards her and smiled. He grabbed her hand and led her to his horse, a dark grey stallion with long lashes and sleek muscles, build for speed. “Do not fear Rin, we understand how important your weapon is to you. It will not be lost to you as long as we draw breath. You will feel its hilt again.” 

She looked at him in earnest. “No. You do not understand the importance of that sword to me. If you knew, you would not part me of it.” He looked surprised at her words. 

“Will you elaborate when riding? Despite the habit of my twin, I enjoy conversation while travelling.” He held out his hand to her. She accepted with a frown and he put her on the horse in one swift motion. Jumping lightley behind her in the saddle, taking the reigns aligning his body with hers.

“This is Mithroch, which means grey horse. He will carry you as a friend.” 

When they took off at a steady pace, he wrapped his arm around her waist which made her breath hitch in her throat and heat pool in her stomach. She felt his chuckle reverberate through her neck and chest, his breath warm. But she noticed that he did not apologize for this intimacy nor did he remove his arm. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

When the sun reached the horizon again and the shadows grew longer, the plains made way for small trees. She recognized pine trees, but they were small barely reaching her shoulder. The horses slowed down to an easy trod. Soon the trees grew larger and dusk seemed to catch on. The sweet smell of pines soothed her senses. She sighed contented. Elladan shifted in the saddle behind her. “They smell good don’t they?” 

She stiffened. What was up with these brothers? Could they read her mind?

“Yes, they do. Smells like home…” 

“You have these trees in your home land?” 

“Yes, this particular tree is important in my country … every garden has one.” she remembered the pine trees around her uncle’s cabin. She associated it with a sense of peace. After the event she found some kind of peace there in the woods. The smell of pine trees brought her comfort. 

She almost felt him smile behind her. “I would love to see one of your gardens if they have trees in them”

“You only like gardens with trees?”

“ Well, my Elf blood makes me feel a connection with all living things and to some extend even non-living things around me. A tree is connected to me at a level that a stone or plant is not. Trees have a mind of their own. A garden is but a mere shadow of nature itself, without trees it would be incomplete.”

His words puzzled her: “I don’t think I completely understand… nor will I ever.”

He laughed at her, a clear sound that filled her with unreasonable happiness. “There is much to learn in this world for either of us I think. Tell me Rin, what is your country called?”

“It is called Nippon or Japan, it means the suns origin” she smiled at the absurdity of it all. Just pronouncing the name of her homeland made her feel giddy with the ridiculous situation she found herself in and had no control over. 

Elladan tasted the words in his mouth. “Nippon? The sun’s origin? It must be a beautiful and bright place where you come from Rin.” 

“It is, but it is not a perfect world.” her mood darkened slightly. 

“Tell me about your sword?” He asked for it innocently, but she suspected that he immediately understood what lay beneath her last remark. He sensed that she had some kind of trauma that was connected to the sword. She felt transparent, almost naked, her secrets almost casually revealed by these brothers. 

Elladan seemed to sense her anxiety and he reassured her: “You do not have to disclose any painful memories if you do not wish to. I was merely curious. It bears great meaning to you and it is a weapon unlike I have ever encountered. And I have lived for many centuries.”

“Centuries?” 

“Aye, although we are Half-Elves, we are immortal until our hearts choose their destiny. We have roamed these lands for centuries now and have seen many secrets and histories. But your sword, I cannot place it.” 

“Well… it is distinctly Japanese. We call it a katana..”

“Katana… “

“Yes, it is a single-edged sword with a long history. Japanese warriors, samurai, used it in open combat. But nowadays we do not fight with swords any more but with guns.”

“Guns?

“Yes.” She struggled to find the correct explanation: ‘It is a metal device with an exploding powder that can send a small piece of metal with high speed towards your opponent. The impact of it, kills instantly.” 

“That sounds like an evil device. Something the enemy would make.”

She shrugged. 

“Rin, why are you still carrying a …. Katana?” 

“Because I love to practice sword fighting. I always have. It is my life. I practice daily trying to better myself. It keeps my mind clear from negative thoughts…” her mind wandered off to exactly those thoughts. But Elladan seemed to instinctively notice this and distracted her with more questions.

“We practice sword fighting as well. When we are not scouting and fighting orcs, we train. Daily. I am wondering Rin…. would you do us the honour of training with us?” 

She heard Elrohir chuckle and softly mumbling: “That will be some short training!” 

“Hitotsu, mazu onore o shire, shikashite ta o shire” she bit at him. Elrohir frowned at her: “That is not common tongue.”

“No it is Japanese. It is the first rule of any martial art: it means: first know yourself, then know others. You are overestimating yourself and underestimating me, Elf.”

Elladan chuckled in her neck. Elrohir smiled at her wit: “And you are ignorant if you cannot judge your opponent correctly. It will do you no good in combat. So I can return the same rule to you.” 

“I can judge you fine. Just a pretty face, that is what you are.” she was grinning now. 

But then her own wit backfired at her swiftly; Elrohir lifted his eyebrows curiously: “You think I am pretty?” 

She blushed. What should she say now? This was embarrassing! She decided that if she could not undo her words, better be honest about it. 

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know! You both are beautiful. Unearthly beautiful I might add. I feel like a potato head next to you guys…. “ she cast her eyes downward, unable to speak more. 

She heard the twins chuckle. Elladan said kindly: “We are aware how mortals see us Rin. But you are no … potato head… I would like to address your beauty also as unearthly, since we have no comparison..” 

She felt her head turn beat red in an instant. She mumbled something inaudible and told Elladan that she needed to do ‘her thing’ in the bushes. He lowered her down with a playful smile and she quickly disappeared in the thicket. When she was a few meters away she heard the brothers laugh together. At her expense no doubt. 

Grumbling she walked through the woods. She felt naked without her katana, she cursed the brothers with all her might. She actually needed to pee, so she sat down behind a tree and lowered her pants. When she was done she noticed a sudden silence in the forest. Unnatural silence. She had heard birds before, but now they were silent. And the sun was not set yet. This could only mean one thing. Something was not right! She cursed softly, adrenaline kicking in. 

She ran as fast as he could through the trees towards the twins. A quick glance told her that they already knew. Their swords already drawn, Elladan motioned her to be silent and stand in between them, Elrohir turned towards the horses, unstrapping her katana. 

He handed it to her with a serious face: “It is a small group, RIn. We can manage with ease. And do not hesitate to kill.” 

She noticed her own trembling hands when she took her katana. But the familiar feel of the hilt in her hands, washed away any fear that she had. She unsheathed it, eying the blade lovingly. Elrohir looked at it with awe, recognizing superb craftsmanship. “That is a fine blade Rin. Now you…..” his sentence remained unfinished because the orcs ran into the small clearing where they stood.


	4. Their stealth surprised her, they didn’t make…

Their stealth surprised her, they didn’t make a sound. There were with six of them and the first one slashed at Ellandan with mad force. The Elfs calm stood in stark contrast to the orcs impulsive madness. In slow motion she saw him bending down, initiating a movement that she recognized. Standing up and pivoting, he sliced the orcs chest with one graceful move. The impact did not slow him down and like an expert dancer he used the momentum to initiate a next series of moves. On his right side, Elrohir was moving almost too fast for her to see, only the spray of blood betraying the movement of his sword. 

They were magnificent fighters to watch. Moving like water, fluent, effortlessly and completely tuned into each other. They even shared their opponents in battle, one brother weakening an orc to aid his twin. She felt like watching a staged choreography. They seemed like wargods to her, cold, proud and painfully beautiful, death following them wherever their attention was drawn. The blood of their enemies on their skin, did not taint their brilliance, but enhanced it. 

But she did not have the time to contemplate on their fighting style, she did not even have time to scream or yell. From the right, past the two brothers came a creature straight at her. It was wearing some kind of leather outfit and some leather straps tight around its chest. A worn down helmet, dented on its head, showing nasty red beady eyes just underneath its rim. Grey skin was covered in scar tissue resulting from probably third degree burns, making its appearance sickening. It’s face was contorted in a battle crazed rage when he dashed right at her, a rusty blade slicing the air before him. 

She moved automatically, a lifetime of training kickstarting her body. With the katana in a reverse grip, she ducked underneath his aimless steered weapon and slashed its face with one swift upward movement. The orc screamed in a sickening way but came back at her with full force. 

She noticed with distant apprehension that his reach was wide and together with his size and weight this was at first sight a serious advantage. But where he was slow, her own flexibility and size made her quick, an unlikely but strangely compatible opponent. So she did what she was good at, she flipped the katana to a regular grip, and danced gracefully around this huge but slow creature, slashing at it, crippling it, toying with it. 

She was unaware of her surroundings, looking at her work from a distant. Her emotions detached from reality, she was just carving a piece of meat, like a cook or butcher. She kept working on him but did not give a killing blow. There was silence around her, or numbness she couldn’t tell.

Years of training, but she only fought Hideo with her real sword, drawing blood occasionally. Normally she used a training katana. In her day and age it was a sport after all, not a means to survive.

But that changed when her parents and little sister were murdered before her eyes on that horrible day. Deep within her a door had opened, a door that stood ajar, but was open nevertheless. She had felt it: a thirst for blood. She longed to give in to it and kill her enemies, bathe in their blood, take revenge, do everything that the rules of her sport forbid her. Everything that her upbringing forbid her. Everything the laws of her country forbid her. 

She really did try. She tried when her family’s murderers were trialed and put to prison for 15 years. She tried in the years after that. But fighting this part of herself killed most of the life inside of her. The only thing left was the next best thing: relentless sword fighting, day in day out, wearing her body down until there was no more room for those haunting thoughts.

The only thing that kept this empty life going was the hope that one day she would be able to face them. And to find the resolve to kill them despite her rules and ethics.

Fighting the orc, she could feel that door within her open more and more and she noticed from a distance that she relished hurting this creature, she relished every slice, every cry of pain, the feel of its blood on her skin. But she kept herself from surrendering to this forbidden feeling. Careful control still in place. 

And, when the orc was on its knees before her, no more than a pile of bloodied flesh, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Elrohir’s face was calm, a trail of blood on his cheek. His sword dripping. He squeezed her shoulder and with that movement, sound returned to the world in full force. His words entered her consciousness in fragments, but she understood his meaning: “...ot training .. ust kill it!”

She gritted her teeth, fear spiked in her stomach for a moment. She felt as if she was balancing on the edge of a sword, the fear to lose her sanity when she would give into her destructive desire was palpable. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind for calmth, reaching past her fear for those forbidden feelings. And they surfaced with full force. 

Where there was hesitation, suddenly conviction kicked in and she sliced its head clean off in one swift movement. She imagined her whole life what this would feel like but the real experience was shockingly banal. Like a knife through butter.

Her mind and body came to a halt in a deep crouch, head bent, her arms, both holding the katana, sweeped to the extreme right, until her shoulder could not twist any further. She panted heavily. Then: suffocating silence and the smell of earth, guts, urine, horses and blood. 

How long she sat there, arms lifted, echoing her final blow staring at the ground she did not know. But after a while she started to sense the presence of the brothers behind her. Shakely she stood up and looked around the small battlefield. 

While she had been playing around with one orc, they killed another eight of them. They underestimated their numbers it seemed. Noticing blood dripping from her katana, she felt bile creep up her throat, making her sick instantly. Rushing to the side, she vomited with vigour. Shaking on her legs she knelt down, vomiting even more. 

Hands brushed her long black hair out of her face. He did not speak, but she knew it had to be Elladan. She felt grateful for this small gesture of understanding. But she felt more grateful for their silence. 

When she was done she wiped her mouth with her sleeve, glancing at the grotesque corpses. Elrohir kicked one of the bodies on its back to examine it. He looked seriously at his brother: “I do not recognize them. A new spawned breed from under the mountains no doubt.” 

Elladan nodded grimly: “Aye. Let us move quickly. We need to find the cover of the greenwood, there might be more numbers on the way.” 

He turned to look at Rin who was distractedly trying to clean her sword on the grass. The girl was obviously shaken. He felt an unfamiliar emotion swelling in his chest. This girl! Her first fight! And what a fighter she was! Gracious and deadly. Like a dancer she moved around her prey, playing with it. Her movements were alien, a beautiful style that he never saw before, with a beautiful blade matching it.

He slowly touched her shoulder again. She looked at him with haunted eyes. He took the sword from her hands and wiped it clean on one of the orcs. After taking the excess blood off, he used his own cape to clean and polish it. Admiring the blade for a moment, he gave her the weapon back with a serious face.

“You have earned your sword. And you have my trust.” 

She blinked at him, confused. Elrohir stepped next to him, putting his hand on her shoulder: “You fought beautiful.” 

Rin looked into their almost identical faces, unable to speak, and suddenly emotion overwhelmed her. She said with a soft voice: “I killed it…. All this time I managed to not give in…. Not to give in...”

“You defended yourself Rin. There is no need for guilt.” Elladan’s words were gentle. 

But Elrohir added harshly: “Do not waste tears or emotions on these foul creatures. They are evil! They are nothing!” he spat on the corpses that lay at their feet. 

She turned towards him saying frustrated: “I do not weep for them! I weep because it felt good to torture it. It felt good to feel its blood on my skin. It felt good finally give in to this hunger for blood.”, she screamed the last words. 

Startled, the brothers saw her falling apart in front of their eyes. They had no experience with crying girls, except their sister in a past long gone. Instinctively Elrohir wrapped his arms around her for comfort. Elladan behind her, mimicked him. They kept her safely enclosed in between their bodies, in their arms, one at the front and one at her back.

Brokenly she stammered: “I gave into it….” 

The brothers kept whispering in her ears, melodic elvish words that she could not understand but soothed her senses. The intense smell of their bodies, that was the other day almost too overwhelming, entered her nostrils as something familiar now. A potent smell that was masculine, earthly and on the verge of arousing. It smelled safe and just like them. Combined with their warmth surrounding her like a warm blanket, she felt safer than she had in years. And after a while her tears subsided and her thoughts stopped going haywire. A calmth entered her mind. There was only the feel of their bodies, their smell and their voices. Nothing could harm her. 

xxxxxxx

And then her body betrayed her once again. She started to feel too warm. A slow blush tainted her cheeks when she realised how closely she was wedged in between the two beautiful brothers. Her heart rate increased rapidly. 

Elladan seemed to sense the change in her and slowly disentangled himself: “It is time to go. Let’s ride to a more advantageous position, before more trouble finds us in this one.” 

Elrohir, uncharacteristically, seemed more reluctant to let her go and lingered a little bit longer. Then he straightened himself and held out his hand to her: “Ride with me?” 

She took it, looking into his eyes, those intelligent and old eyes, that seemed to strip her bare. But somehow she trusted him, she trusted them. She took his hand and nodded. He strapped her katana on his saddle, so that she would no be parted from her weapon this time. It earned him a small smile. He lifted her easily on his saddle and lightly jumped behind her, grasping her waist, he bore his heels in the flanks of his horse, making it sprint away in haste. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

While riding his mind wandered to the small willowy build girl in his arms. How interesting she was! He knew his brother shared his sentiments. She had been amazing with that sword. He was just awe-struck by her style and how well the weapon fit that style. She moved like water. He had never seen a mortal woman wield a sword like that. She did not realise herself that she was toying with the orc, but she was. She was in complete control of the fight, but unwilling to give the final blow because she had vowed not to kill. But she did it nevertheless. 

He felt a pang of guilt. In a way he was the cause for breaking that vow. Without hesitation she had listened to him and now there was no turning back for her, innocence taken, vows broken. It was his doing. Or the enemy? He was wise enough to admit that they were to blame. If they would not have given her that sword but just protected her, she would be true to her vows still. 

How she fared mentally and emotionally afterwards was only to be expected, although again she was not afraid of the things that they expected, but rather the opposite. Again it was not the fear of dying or killing that made her cry, it seemed she was afraid of her love for killing. It puzzled him. She must have suffered some kind of trauma that made her this way, he was certain of it. 

His guilt was short lived. A dark part of him had enjoyed watching her hurt the orc and kill it. But it was more than that; he felt satisfied that she also gave in to a dark part of herself just as he and his brother had done, all those centuries ago. It satisfied him because it was a liberating experience and now they shared an experience that was connected to the very fundamentals of their being. For centuries now they had lived like this, their darker nature hidden for their kin. And now here she was, an intimate witness of a very private part of them and it somehow, beyond any expectation, it felt good. 

But he felt grateful that he could comfort her together with his brother like that. He frowned. A familiar stirring in his stomach occured; she had felt good in between them. He shared everything in life with his brother, and sharing that moment of comforting this strange girl felt only natural. He looked beside him and met Elladans’ eyes. 

They nodded to each other. He understood what was going through his mind, since it was what he himself had been thinking about. Their thoughts followed often the same pathways. They smiled at each other. Here they were, travelling with a strange girl, their private seclusion breached and it felt good. It surprised them to no end, but she seemed to just fit in their routine and habits naturally.


	5. They travelled for what seemed hours...

They travelled for what seemed hours. She felt herself drifting off to sleep occasionally. Her head was in complete disarray. Her thoughts jumping, memories forced themselves on her. As always Elrohir sensed her state of mind almost on instinct and seemed to be pressed into her more securely, his warmth giving a little comfort. Around them the trees had grown large, reaching up towards the sky with slender branches, glowing white in the light of the stars. 

After what seemed to be an eternity, they slowed down to make camp. Elladan dismounted his horse and with a swift movement, lifted her out of his brothers saddle. Once standing, he wrapped his cloak around her more securely and sat her down on the roots of a big tree, her back leaning against it.

She smelled the soothing pine trees again, but also trees that she could not place. The twins were talking softly in their own musical tongue, rummaging around in the dark. She dozed off for a while, but woke up with a start feeling a hand on her shoulders. 

The dull sky had exploded into a shining mass of stars and a small fire was crackling merrily, small sparks jumping out and floating into the night. The trees around them seemed to move and aflame in burning orange and yellow colors. For the first time since she travelled with them, they cooked some warm food: dried meat combined with some root vegetables and a pinch of salt that Elrohir reverently took from a small wooden box. It simmered in a small kettle on the fire, the smell warming her bones. It was not much, but they ate as starved people. And then when their bellies were filled they sat staring into the fire, silent. 

After a while Elladan started to sing softly. She could not understand the words, but the song was melancholic and the slow melody stirred emotions deep within her. Tired of the events of the day, she could no longer fight her internal turmoil and she let the tears run freely while listening to him. Elrohir seemed just as moved by his brothers song and his face was contorted in grief. 

After the last words faded away into the night Elladan’s eyes were closed for some time. When he looked up he seemed to wake from a dream. Rin stared at him in wonder, drying her tears with her sleeve. “That was absolutely beautiful… what was the song about? It sounded so sad.” 

Elladan sighed: “The tragic story of Beren and Luthien, who walk these lands no more…I cannot speak of it tonight.” 

She knew about this song, but nothing prepared her for the real experience of hearing the melody and words herself. It had seemed as if it had been more than just a song, the words, although foreign had held some force or power. It evoked emotion in her in a controlled manner. Instead of the turmoil that had consumed her all day, the melody seemed to have broken an invisible dam with reverence instead of force and she felt a little bit healed by it. This must be that mysterious power or magic of the elves. 

They did not try to comfort her when she cried and she was glad. But when she wanted to sleep, Elladan invited her to lie with her head in his lap. She welcomed this extra warmth. At first it was a bit awkward, but she felt too tired to care and she relaxed her head and neck into the warmth, the warm flames lulling her to sleep. Just before she surrendered to the darkness, she imagined feeling his hands stroking her hair, letting the long strands slip through his fingers. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next days they travelled further into the forest. It was majestic and seemingly endless. The large trees towering above them. Autumn had set in, coloring the leaves brown and orange. The horses feet crunching through a layer of already fallen leaves. They did not encounter a lot of wildlife, only the occasional fox and deer. The brothers seemed to have a grand respect for all living things and they bowed their head ever so slightly for every large animal that they encountered, mummering a soft elvish greeting. 

They rode cautiously, minimizing their sounds. Often one of the twins was scouting ahead, leaving her with the other. Riding with Elladan ment elaborate conversations. He wanted to know everything about her life and her country. His questions were of such innocent character that she found herself opening up to him easily. She shared very personal things about her life in Japan and she suspected that he understood far more about her character, past and whereabouts than she told him in words. The eerie feeling that she could have no secrets for these brothers was a constant. 

When she rode with Elrohir, he was silent most of the time, answering her questions with short grunts. But she noticed that he was, apart from being short for words, incredibly funny. Their conversations, when they had them, were like a battle of wits. He won most of the time, he had centuries of experience after all. After which he teased her with her defeat relentless. 

But despite their differences she started to notice that these brothers did not need any words between them. Centuries of interaction with each other did that to people she guessed. But it was strange to experience, if she didn’t know any better, it seemed like telepathy. Most of the time a look was enough. Often they would finish each other’s train of thought. Their decisions, even small ones, were made together. They were aware of each others traits and quirks, but they respected each others opinion nevertheless, often with some exasperation. She wondered if her presence would have a negative effect on the equilibrium that they apparently lived in for centuries now.

Her first fight had changed something in their regard for her. They were more affectionate with her but in a respectful way. The affection was mainly physical. She suspected that riding with a woman in front of you on a horse, was challenging for a man. But they seemed more touchy since the fight, their hands holding her waist almost constantly, or resting on one of her legs. Those lingering hands stirred feelings and sensations deep within her. But she felt awkward because it felt so pleasant and because they did it openly, plain for the other to see. She had no idea if they were conscious of this change or if it held any meaning for them. For all she knew it was normal for Elves to touch each other this much? In any case she wasn’t complaining. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Apart from their physical affection and pleasant conversation they seemed non-communicative on their enemies whereabouts or the strategies that they were following. At the end of the third day after the fight she noticed a difference in their direction and the brothers demeanor. She had the distinct feeling that they were riding in a big circle back to where they were a day before. 

Their stealth was growing with each minute, even Elladan became as silent as his brother. They were constantly listening, stopping and scouting. Slowly it dawned on her that they were not fleeing or evading, but actually hunting the enemy now and it caused a nervous kind of anticipation in her body and the familiar stirr of anger deep within her. She felt shocked that they would meet the enemy head on with her in tow, without mentioning it to her. 

The previous fight had went well but she was inexperienced and they knew it. There had been moments in that fight that they could not have come to her aid had she needed it. The group of orcs was small, but if there had been more, it could have ended badly for her.

On top of that, they were Elves! They had abnormal strength and senses. They could evade the orcs easily. Why did they not tell her what they were heading into to make her wary and prepared? 

Anger getting the better of her and she said irritated: “When were you going to tell me that we are going to meet them head on?” 

Elladan looked at her sharply: “Why? We will end them with ease. You need not be concerned.” 

She rolled her eyes, irritated: “Why put me in harms way? Why not evade them so you can bring me to Rivendell safely? Isn’t that your goal?” 

At her blunt tone of voice, Elladan replied coolly: “Our purpose is to cleanse these lands of evil. Your safety was never our goal as you put it.” 

“So you are gambling with my life without my consent? You can easily evade them. I know you can.” 

Elrohir said angrily: “That is not our way. We cannot let them live in these lands” 

“But you are gambling with my life! You are expecting me to hunt them down with you! To kill them. But you fail to inform me of that!” she noticed vaguely that she was yelling at them. 

She was fed up with them suddenly and she wrenched herself out of Elladans grip and jumped to the ground. She stared up at them, hands on her hips, seething. They seemed irritated, Elrohir angry even, his grey eyes clouded, his mouth an angry set line. He spat something in quick Elvish to his brother. Elladan grunted in response. 

“What is the difference with the last fight? Dead is dead”, he said. 

“There is difference and you know it! The other day they happened upon us. I defended myself because I had no choice. But now I have a choice. And I think it only fair that you at least discuss it with me in advance.”

“Discuss it? You are still a child to us, what would you know of danger and risks?”, Elrohir snorted.

“Pardon me? I am no child! How dare you say that to me, you arrogant bastard Elf Lord!” 

She felt tears of anger filling her eyes. She clenched her fists. She would not cry in front of them, no matter what!

Elrohir had no patience with her anger: “Watch your tongue mortal. We are not bastards but of noble blood. You do well to remember that. And do not attempt to change our ways, girl. We hunt orc, it is the way that we are. Death will come for us as it will see fit. Evading our purpose will not change that.” 

She blinked. What was he rambling about? “Do you value life so little? That you would carelessly throw it away?” 

They gave her a pained look. Elrohir looked away silently. After a pregnant silence, Elladan said: “Do not pretend to understand, it takes more than orcs to kill us. And we do value life. We dedicated our actions for its preservation, but we cannot ignore the urges of our hearts.”

Elrohir added angrily: “You are part of this Rin, even if you do not wish it.” 

She stared at them, letting their words sink in. She was part of this. What was ‘this’ exactly? Was she part of their suffocating togetherness? Part of this hunt? Her anger lessened, making place for an uneasy feeling. They were compelled to hunt their enemy, it seemed an urge they could not fight. Her participation in the last fight made her in a weird way an intricate part of this existence. Even she could feel it. It chilled her to the bone. Giving in to those primal instincts in her first fight felt like a liberation. But those feelings were now tucked away deep inside her again and the memory of the experience a faint echo. How would her sanity hold if she fought again? 

The brothers stared down at her, perched on their horses. Their faces serious, eyes glinting. Anticipation hung in the air as if the forest held its breath. 

Her thoughts were racing. What would happen if she walked out? She seemed to instinctively understand the workings of their brain and hearts. Just as they seemed to understand what she was thinking all the time. 

There was no going back, if she abandoned them now, she would lose a part of herself that she had only just discovered. If she abandoned them now, they would hunt the orcs, kill them and retrieve her afterwards to bring her to Rivendell, but they would shut her out, these brothers were scarred just like her and very closed, a habit that existed for centuries. She had been allowed to see a very intimate part of them and she was certain no Elf or man had ever been allowed this close. 

The thought of them leaving her and shutting her out, scared her. Their togetherness felt so right. She wanted to be part of this, whatever this was. She wanted to fight, more than anything in her life. She realised, that it was the mere fact that they made decisions without her that had made her angry. If she was part of it, she wanted to be their equal. 

Well. She was their equal. 

“I will fight.” they seemed to relax a bit. 

“But if I am part of this, you cannot treat me like a child and make decisions about my life. You are not alone any longer. I am here now. Deal with it.” 

Elladan blinked at her, the irritation still there: “You are troublesome.” 

“Aye, troublesome, irritating and a burden. But I guess you have a point.” his brother added. To her relief, his eyes had softened a bit giving her courage.

She suddenly grinned. “So I won the fight?”

Elrohir laughed his clear laugh out loud: “Aye, Rin. I guess you did.” 

Elladan was still irritated and could not smile. He seemed disturbed by her intrusion in their affairs. 

Elrohir held out his hand to her, but she refused. “Let me walk for a while, my ass is hurting from the saddle.” Elrohir turned a subtle shade of pink at her use of language and she softly chuckled turning around walking away.

The sound of hooves followed her and suddenly she was lifted in the saddle effortlessly with his inhuman strength. She gasped when she felt his breath tickle her neck. He was bending towards her ear saying with a dark voice: “So, will you hunt orcs with us?” 

“Hai..”

She felt him smile and release a sigh: “Good.” 

And he spurred his horse on in an easy trod through the trees. After a while Elladan caught up with them. The dark mood in his eyes lifted a bit: “Was it that easy? You just wanted us to ask?”

She smiled at him: “Yes, that easy.” 

Finally he smiled as well: “Alright my dear lady. We will ask your permission from this moment onwards. But only if you will grace us with a positive answer.” 

“I promise to follow you happily in any battle that you propose.” 

The twins burst out in happy laughter. And she felt light as a feather.


	6. Dusk was approaching faster in the forest……

Dusk was approaching faster in the forest than in the open plains. Elrohir was scouting a bit ahead and where they could see him from time to time, he was now lost in growing shadows. True to their word, the twins informed her of the enemies whereabouts and how they wanted to approach them. Knowing how close the orcs were made her nervous and suddenly concerned for Elrohir. She hated not being in control.

Concentrating she could hear the sounds of his horse past the soft thuds of Mithrochs hooves. She felt uncomfortable, shivering while she stared at the ever growing darkness, trying to pierce it with her eyes but failing. Tuned in on her feelings as he was, Elladan rubbed her arm to comfort her.

A sudden silence rolled through the forest, Elladan’s hand stopped moving. They held their breath, every fibre in their body alert. Then he unsheathed his sword softly. Rin followed him mere seconds later, the metal of her katana hissing.

As if the darkness was watching her, she suddenly felt like a sitting duck on the horse. Acting on impulse she slipped out of Elladan’s grip, quickly running to a large tree, her ankles stiff from sitting still on the horse. Moving on her own accord, she felt no fear and in control, her thoughts empty and calculating. She took off her hoodie quickly, she wanted to be able to move unhindered.

Glancing back at Elladan she expected him, considering their argument earlier, to be concerned or angry for her impulsiveness. But instead he nodded at her seriously, his grey eyes clearly visible in the darkness. He motioning to the side with a shake of his head, holding up a few fingers to indicate the number of orcs.

Suddenly a loud clang of metal on metal alerted them. They shared another look. His wise eyes seemed to understand the situation and her intentions immediately. He motioned for her to run towards the sound. Then quickly turned his horse thundering through the trees and disappearing into the shadows. The sound of hooves was quickly absorbed by the darkness. She could only hear the sound of her own breathing.

So she was on her own for now. It gave her strength that he treated her like an equal and gave her this amount of trust. She had to live up to that trust. Running towards the sounds of weapons clashing, she held her blade sideways, the point tipped towards the ground. Silently she ran, like a shadow. The terrain was rugged but still she reached him before his brother did.

To her surprise, his legs half in the thicket, Elrohir lay on the ground, his eyelids closed. He seemed to be temporarily knocked out. When she approached he was trying to get to his feet, shaking his head to get rid of some dizziness, groaning. Bending over him, to her dismay, stood a giant orc holding a club. The creature yelled at the fallen Elf in a strange language, dark words spoken with a raspy broken voice.

Without hesitation she ran at the scene and sliced at it with one supple downward movement from her katana. He was twice her size. In slow motion she saw him registering the pain and turning his head to look down at her. In the wake of this movement his body pivoted slowly and the large club, with spikes, she noticed distantly, was being hurled towards her.

Within a split second, she knew that countering it would be suicide; she had to dodge it. She crouched down low, effectively evading her head being split open. Involuntarily, the orc’s massive body followed the movement of the club by the sheer force that he had used, baring its unarmored side body to her. Seeing this opening in his defence she jumped up quickly, her katana already in action. 

But then his head exploded in a spray of blood. The large body slowly tumbled over towards her. Feeling the blood dripping from her face, she stared blinking at the enormous lump of flesh heading her way. She was pulled forcibly to the side in one swift motion by a hard tug on her arm. It was Elladan. He did not look at her, but stared into the darkness, hissing at her: “Focus Rin… more are on the way…” 

Elrohir had gotten up, staring in the same direction. He seemed uninjured. And then the world slowed down again. Five orcs came crashing through the darkness, gaining visibility as if they stepped out of an ink jar.

Elladan ran at them, a fraction faster than his brother. In his wake followed Elrohir, calling with a clear voice, making the echoes bouncing off the trees: “Lacho calad! Drego morn!”. It seemed as if their charge pushed light into the darkness for a moment, making their enemy hesitate. She stared in wonder, rooted to the spot, watching the shadows cower behind the trees. What was this feeling? Was this the might of the Elves? 

And then the moment passed and with a loud metal clang, they fell on their enemy like hungry birds of prey, slaying them as if they were Death himself.

The power of their battle cry gave her a strength that she did not know she possessed. She ran after them, cutting down the first orc that she happened upon. It fell easily with one smart move of her blade. It filled her with an intense adrenaline high that made her scream out in euphoria. The next one was not so easily defeated. It evaded her sword and managed to hit her in the face, making her tumble backwards and slamming into a tree trunk. She scrambled to her feet instantly. It was upon her in seconds, but she was quicker, making her katana collide point first with its flesh. At its cry of agony she locked eyes with it and they held nothing but hatred and pain.

An intense urge to hurt him pushed out any rational thought and while staring at it, she turned her blade and cut the wound further open towards the side, spilling its intestines on the ground. The horror of what she was doing was nothing compared to the relish she felt when she saw the panic in its eyes when the pain hit fully. The weapon fell from its hands, but it was not done yet. A small knife that she hadn’t noticed cut through the skin of her arm. She cried in pain triggering an intense anger. She yelled her rage into its face. The creature cried in agony and surged with a battle crazed madness, she stared into its eyes until death found it suddenly and let it slide to the ground with a dull thud.

She ripped her katana from its belly severing its head from its body in one blow. She assessed the small battlefield. The twins were cornered by more orcs in a tough fight. The brothers fought seriously, she noticed their concentrated faces. 

Then one of the orcs cut Elrohir on the shoulder which made her jump into action running towards them and slicing at its ankles, successfully crippling it. Elladan immediately took advantage of the opening and ended the creature with one blow. She jumped on to the next one, using her favorite reverse grip since the space to move around was limited. Elladan seemed to adapt to her intrusion in the battle with ease. He supplemented her, finishing moves that she initiated. And within moments the enemy was slain.

They stood there for a while panting. Elrohir already sensing their surroundings for more. He motioned silently with his head towards another direction. Rin felt excitement flooding her stomach. Without second thought she ran towards the shadows, only followed by a soft Elvish cursing sound. 

Silently running through the trees. The orcs appeared soon enough and she ran at them silently. Vaguely she realised that there was no sound of the twins following her. But she trusted them to guard her back. 

As if the previous encounters were just a warming up, she felt her mind and body just click into place. For a fleeting insane moment she thought of Hideo. This must be the state of mind that he was always talking about! And it felt great!

When she slayed the first orc, a battle rage took control over her brain and body. She moved automatically, everything becoming fluent, her movements, her tactics, her thoughts. 

She craved for more with every blow and every cry of their enemy, that was now also her enemy. There was an enormous amount of orcs and she was moving without pause, working her limbs, cutting through flesh, skin and bone, pivoting, twisting, jumping, ducking. 

And then for the first time in her life she gave herself completely to the experience, to herself, letting all barriers crashing down in one liberating ecstasy. She lost herself, she felt her mind and body becoming one, energy flowing, filling every cell in her body. Her identity reduced to zero. Time ceased to exist. There was only the fight and the tsuka of her katana in her hand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

After an eternity, ever so slowly, she came to her senses. She was standing in a silent forest, cutting feverishly into a large lump of flesh. The meat shook with every blow. She was making sounds with every move. 

Vaguely she realised it was dead. The stench of spilled guts mixed with blood and rusting metal, penetrating her nose almost painfully. She seemed to taste the smell on her tongue, nauseating her. And ever so slowly disgust started to grow in the pit of her stomach. 

She stopped dead when she heard a soft voice murmuring in Elvish very near to her. It took her too long to recognize Elladan. Blood caked the side of his face and oddly enough his mouth and chin. He was panting. Dark blood was dripping from his sword. He was softly speaking to his brother, his hand on his arm. 

Elrohir behind him seemed still dazed from fighting. His eyes wild, panting, his clothing soaked with blood. His sword was stuck in a grey corpse. He held an elegant knife in his hand, his arm up to his elbow covered in blood. He seemed injured at his shoulder, clear red blood oozing from a wound.

The sight of the wound alerted her, making her mind clear in an instant. She approached him quickly, touching his shoulder, concerned. He stared at her with those harsh wild eyes, as if seeing her for the first time. She said softly: “You are hurt… ”

He didn’t answer but grasped her waist and pulled her painfully into him with too much force, staring down at her with strange eyes. His strength and force surprised her and she gasped in his hold. Holding her tight, he slowly put his head into the crook of her neck. He held and she realized with a start that he was inhaling her scent. She must smell disgusting, but he inhaled deeply.

Behind him she noticed Elladan’s concerned look. “You will get more blood on you.” she said it gently, trying not to provoke him. . 

“I like you covered in blood…”, the words left his mouth before he realized what he was saying. As if the awkwardness of the situation slowly dawned on him, he stilled in the embrace. He slowly stood straight and met her eyes. She looked shy and flustered at the comment, not knowing what to think. When his thoughts cleared he wasn’t sorry that he said it, since it was the truth. He knew his brother thought the same thing right this moment.

She had stood there, blood dripping from her blade, her arm and her face. Her eyes wild her face fierce, chest heaving, the muscles in her arms tense. And he had to admit that it did things to his stomach seeing her like this. Standing there like some exotic war goddess.

He was disturbed momentarily by his body’s reaction to her appearance, but instinctively he had no choice but to give in to his urge for closeness. He wanted to feel her and smell the battle clinging to her skin, the sweat of the exercise still fresh. He knew he was to blame for her loss of innocence and her broken vows. But to give into this darkness, being able to share it with her, was a desire that had been part of him for centuries, but a desire that he nor his brother ever acted upon. 

But now she was here. And the desire became too strong for him to ignore. He wanted to share his world with her, make her part of it. And he did not care if she wanted this or not, if she felt the same or not. A dark selfishness surfaced and he just gave into it because it felt good. 

Elladan had approached without her noticing. Standing close enough for her to feel his breath on the other side of her neck en feel the warmth of his body against her side and back. She felt slightly embarrassed that he was staring at her while she was in his brothers arms, but as before he seemed not bothered by it. 

Looking at him, she saw that his eyes held a dark look that told her he might even like the sight of them together. It made her blush, which made him gasp softly, his eyes getting an even darker wanting look. When he stared at Elrohir however, he said something in Elvish, his brother replied with a short grunt, releasing her.

Elladan had noticed the cut on her arm it seemed. He took her arm, turning it around to asses her injury. It was not serious, but it needed to be stitched together. He cursed softly. And the awkwardness of the situation evaporated just like that. 

“Are you alright, Rin?”

She shrugged. “It is a shallow wound. It just needs to be cleaned and preferably stitched.”

“I can stitch the wound. But we need a fire to boil what little water we have and get warm.” he stared at his brother pointedly. Elrohir cursed and stalked away to find firewood.

A fire was crackling soon enough and she sat next to it shivering. The adrenaline from the fight worn out. The Elves seemed unaffected by the cold. 

Elladan had dragged the orc corpses into the thicket, showing an impossible strength that made her gape at him. Seeing her reaction he had shrugged mumbling about the obvious differences between Elves and humans. Elrohir had found her hoodie. 

When Elladan had soaked some cloth in boiling water, he glanced at her: “Are you ready?”

She nodded. It was a nasty business, but it had to be done. She was not afraid of pain or injuries and she gave her arm unwavering. He washed the wound carefully, the already dried blood dissolving and dripping in rivulets from her arm on the forest ground. Then he took a needle made of fine metal and with a fine white thread he started sewing the edges of the wound together. 

“Forgive me Rin, I am not the healer that my father is. This will leave a scar.”

“I don’t mind. I have many scars.”

He went to work quickly but with attention. Elrohir watched her curiously. She did not react in any way to the pain of the needle or tugging at the wound. He thought she was remarkable.

When he was done, Elladan wound some clean cloth around her arm to protect the stitches. He helped her into her hoodie again and wrapped his mantle around her shoulders. She needed to stay warm.

She looked at Elrohir and his bloodied shoulder. “Shall I take a look at that?”

He shrugged. “It will heal.”

“But the pain will lessen more quick if I treat it.”

He grunted. “I like the hurt. It makes me feel alive.”

She blinked at him. She knew that feeling intimately and had felt it many times before. But it was not the answer she expected. He was an Elf. Why would he have the same strange issues as a human girl? These were not the ideal Elves that she read about. They were scarred, dark and dangerous. And apparently they had issues. They had lived for centuries. Of course the brothers must have picked up more trauma than she had in her short lifetime. 

She tried a different approach: “I know what you mean.”

“I fear you do not.”

Her anger flared: “Yes I do! Feeling my body after fighting is the only way to feel alive. When I am not fighting I feel empty, dead if you will. This is the reason that I live with my katana! You are not alone! So don’t tell me I don’t understand!”

He blinked at her, unable to form a coherent sentence. She pressed on: “Nice that you want to feel alive, good for you! But you are risking an infection and ultimately death if you don’t clean it. And that is just a silly way to die for someone of Noble Blood as you put it.” she rolled her eyes but pressed on: “And besides, it will hurt anyway, even if I clean it and tend to it…so you don’t really have a point...”

He stared at her dumbfounded. Elladan suddenly laughed out loud, releasing the tension in them all. And after a while even Elrohir smiled: “Fine, I guess the verdict of a Japanese goddess of war is final.”

But Rin realized soon to her dismay that her plan backfired once again, when he unclasped his mantle and pulled his tunic over his head, penetrating her with his gaze. She stared apprehensive at his torso, his broad shoulders, lean muscles, the scars that marred the delicate white skin. 

She felt his eyes burning holes in her, but she did not dare meet them, fighting the burning sensation on her cheeks. She just knew the bastard would be grinning if she looked at him. Instead she focussed on his wound and the dried up crusts of blood on his hands, to remind her that the situation was totally unappropriate for hormones.


	7. A day passed uneventfully into the next afternoon. She felt so...

A day passed uneventfully into the next afternoon. She felt so incredibly dirty that it almost made her cry. With every movement, her own body temperature released the horrible smell that clung to her clothing and skin.

The twins were, just like her, covered with blood stains and probably worse. Their clothing was covered in thick crusts of dried blood, their hair caked with gore, falling in thick knotted strands. The night after the battle, they could only clean the utmost necessary. Elladan had rinsed his face and Rin had cleaned Elrohir’s wounded shoulder, using the only water they risked to spare. The twins knew these lands well, fresh water was still miles away, so they initiated a strict rationing policy, resulting in three extremely filthy travellers. 

Apart from the increasing sensation of extreme thirst that she was unfamiliar with, she could not remember a moment in her life where she had been more dirty. The brothers seemed unfazed by it. They were still clingy, despite her current state of physical hygiene. 

Like after the first battle, they seemed to crave her close proximity. But she felt increasingly uneasy when they touched her, since she could barely stand the smell of her own body. At the end of the first day she became rigid under their attention. Food tasted foul and she could not swallow even the tiniest bite, her body destroying any appetite that she might have. Sleep was restless and uneasy, the need to shower or bathe becoming almost unbearable. 

In the morning of the next day she stiffened with every touch of the twins. Their attempts to touch made her feel itchy and restless. It vexed the twins, she felt it. But she just did not want them to cling to her when she felt this horrible about herself. 

Later that afternoon, she decided to walk for while, anything to escape their hands. The twins did not comment on her decision, but she felt their inquisitive eyes following her every step. She chose to ignore them, too restless and awkward to care. 

Walking through the woods, it was unnerving how clean it was. It smelled fresh and clear. The atmosphere seemed crisp and clean as if she could smell the oxygen being created by the leaves. It stood in sharp contrast with how she felt. Her body and clothes covered in the blood and guts of orcs, her mind still experiencing the after effects of the fight. She felt tainted. A dark presence in a pure world. 

Listening to the soft sound of hooves and the murmuring of the twins, she thought about them. They were odd, these brothers, not what she expected from two Elf lords. Some part of them was like the books, noble and pure with a mysterious power radiating from them. She was constantly amazed by the feel of their presence, their penetrating wise eyes, their unreal beauty and the sense that they were infinitely wise and good. But they were also dark, forbidden and strange, embracing their dark urges and seeking out blood and death almost desperately. 

There seemed to be no sense of privacy between them. They shared their lives with all their experiences, wants, thoughts and enemies to the extreme. And even to the point where they openly sought closeness and intimacy with her, whether it be in conversation or physical touch, plain for the other brother to see. At first she felt awkward but their ease with each other made her accept it almost without second thought now. But glancing at them from a distance she knew it was an odd relationship that these brothers had with each other. Although odd might be an understatement. 

And while they were hypersensitive for her thoughts and emotions, they seemed socially awkward on other matters. Because why on earth did they not realize that physical closeness while covered in gore is not something normal people desire? She cursed them softly in Japanese, stomping through the thicket. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The brother’s thoughts in turn were just as occupied with Rin. Watching her lean form maneuvering through the trees, they felt uneasy. She was being distant and fidgy. They wanted to comfort her, but it seemed to have an opposite effect. Comforting her by seeking physical closeness came naturally to them and she had been very receptive to their attention. But since their last fight she sought distance instead of closeness. 

Elladan toyed with the idea that she might be uncomfortable with all the dried blood, but thinking of her bloodlust in battle he dismissed the thought. Something else must be troubling her. 

They let her be for a while. She seemed to be in need of solitude, something they understood all too well. Elladan was still in awe about how she handled the battle, her fighting style was violence-driven, well-balanced, creative and fearless. And to his utter amazement, she gave herself with body and soul over to her bloodlust, watching in euphoria as the life struggled out of her fallen enemies. There was no hesitation, no holding back. She was a fearsome force of pure power unleashed upon the orcs, and it was a painfully beautiful sight to behold.

He softly said to his brother in Elvish: “Well, brother?” 

“I think I have not seen her equal with the blade other than a handful of Elves.” 

“She embraced her inner darkness.” 

Elrohir sighed sadly: “I feel we have wronged her, brother.” 

“You know as well as I that we do not dictate her mortal heart. She has made her choice.” 

“But we could have chosen to protect her from the orcs. Or from herself for that matter.” 

Elladan fell silent. Then he said thoughtfully: “Even if we protected her she seems to have a purpose inside herself. You feel it too brother. Her fëa, is violence-driven, she seems to have been re-born out of terror. And we had no part in that.”

“A soul, mortals call it.” 

“Her soul seemed already torn when we met her. I am glad we can guide her to embrace the darkness inside of her without getting lost, to re-direct her fear. We have been the same after all.” 

“Aye, it feels good to find a kindred fëa. Somehow she knows death as we have.” 

Elladan stared at his brother for a while.

“She is an addiction, I feel like a moth attracted to a flame. I do not like it.” Elrohir added. 

“Aye brother. I fear what it means for I feel similar. I do not wish to let her go.”

They fell silent. Their thoughts wandered towards the small girl walking ahead of them and their increasing obsession with her. They felt some sort of primal pull that made them want to be close. It scared them. They did not wish to discuss this fear yet, for deep down in their hearts they knew what it meant. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Late in the afternoon, they came upon a small lake in the woods that was fed by a bubbling creek. Rin reached it first, her spirits lifted immediately by the mere sight of the water. 

The brothers behind her halted their horses, cautiously taking in their surroundings. Elrohir steered Suldal back into the woods to scout the area. Elladan said softly. “A bath would do us good, don’t you think? The water is clear and pure.” 

A sudden sharp happiness caused a mischievous Cheshire grin to appear on her face. 

“I cannot wait to jump into the water! But our filth will violate it immediately I fear.” she quipped. They laughed together, and Elladan noticed to his satisfaction that the mental distance between them had evaporated instantly. Was it as simple as the prospect of bathing that eased her mind?

“Is it the stain of the blood of our enemies that has been making your mood foul?” 

She nodded, grimacing: “Don’t you mind?” 

He cocked his head, staring at her. “You must forgive us Rin, for our ways are …..peculiar. Sometimes we forget ourselves.” He looked away then and Rin thought quietly it was still weird that he had not answered her question. 

They patiently waited for Elrohir to return, occasionally sipping water from the lake. She felt weird drinking water from a lake like that, vaguely wondering if it would make her sick. After drinking she washed her hands and face, feeling somewhat better already. 

Mithroch drank slowly and eagerly and after a while the horse slowly wandered off through the thicket. 

“What if we need to escape?” 

Elladan smiled at her: “Well, I cannot imagine that we must since my brother is scouting. But in that unfortunate incident, I will call him and he will come.” 

“Just like that?”

“Aye. Just like that. He is my friend.” 

This calm acceptance of this friendship with his horse, was an Elvish trait that she still wasn’t used to. She knew she could not get more out of him than this. Any hint of the supernatural they would just explain as Elvish culture and nature and nothing extraordinary. But for her it almost seemed like magic. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Elrohir returned after what seemed an hour and gave the all clear. Rin did not think twice, but walked to the edge of the lake, quickly stripped down and dived into the water with a battlecry. The water was crystal-clear, the green lush water plants and rocks visible beneath her. And ice cold. She swam underwater for some time, resurfacing in the middle of the lake. She swam a few rounds to heat up her body and dived to the cold dark depths where silent floating plants caressed her skin. When she came up for air, still in the middle of the lake, she wondered about the twins. 

She spotted them on the edge of the lake staring at her. It seemed they were rooted to the spot where she stripped naked only moments ago. Elrohir looked flushed and Elladan just stared. 

How could she be so stupid! She was in Middle Earth, travelling with two Elf Lords and she just stripped stark naked in front of them. She had no clue how nudity was looked upon or how dating worked in this world, but she was fairly sure that it did not involve casual nakedness or sex before marriage. And looking at their reactions her assumptions seemed correct. 

Her rising embarrassment was quickly replaced by evil sadism. They had been making her feel awkward for the longest time now. Elrohir’s topless state after the fight felt like a low blow to her dignity, making her feel flustered against her will. It felt good to pay them back like this.

“Stop gaping like a set of orcs and get clean! Never saw a woman swimming before? Just get in here and get clean, you smell like death!” 

The brothers stood there at a loss for words, obviously embarrassed, as was her intention. But then, Elladan shrugged: “Well brother. What are you waiting for? Do as the lady commands.” 

But he didn’t smile when he let his mantle drop to the ground. Instead he looked at her intently while he took off his tunic showing, like his brother, a perfect torso, marred with scars, beautifully toned, the skin pale. 

It was her turn to be embarrassed, just the sight of him made her heart beat faster. The absence of his smile enhanced the sense of darkness beneath all that male beauty. The brothers were dangerous, dark and unpredictable and the thrill of this edge made her insides churn. They were addictive. But their beauty did not make her forget the wildness in Elrohir’s eyes after the battle, the way he lost control when he had grabbed her, smelling her. Seeing Elladan stripping at the waterside, she felt again like she had prodded two caged tigers unwittingly and she had no idea what was going to happen next. And yet, this uncertainty was part of the anticipation that tightened things low in her body. She felt helpless in the vicinity of such dangerous beauty. 

To make matters worse, Elladan undid his pants, dropping them in one go. There was no underwear and while she suddenly had trouble finding a focus point for her eyes, he ignored her stares stoically, even seemed to dare her to watch. Slowly he walked into the water, his eyes never leaving her face. 

She quickly dipped her head underneath the water’s surface to cool of her flaming cheeks. She only came up when she was sure his hips would be underneath the surface, although she knew that the clarity of the water did not leave things to the imagination. 

Suddenly his head crashed through the water’s surface just beside her. His face glistening from the water, eyelashes stuck together. He had the same dark seriousness in his face that gave her unease, but noticing her furious blush, that expression seemed to melt away and he smiled a slow smile, saying softly: “Do not worry Rin, as I told you before, your honour is safe with us.” 

She heard a loud splash and Elrohir joined them, his flushed cheeks made him look uncharacteristically cute and boyish and she could not help but laugh at him. 

He gave her an irritated look but soon his eyes held mischief. “Are you laughing at me, my Lady?” 

“I’m afraid I am!” 

Without warning he scooped her up, pulling her into his warm chest. She felt cold air clinging to her skin making her aware of her nakedness and his brother’s gaze. She shrieked while he threw her into the water with force. She came up gasping for air, their laughter ringing in her ears. She splashed water at them, taking revenge. But she was repaid in twofold. 

They swam for what seemed like hours, washing the blood off their skin and out of their clothes. Her fingertips went wrinkly. It felt like heaven to rinse the blood and gore out of her hair and off her skin. The wound on her arm felt painful in the water and she hoped it would not get infected. But the numbing cold soon made her forget about it. The water absorbed all the evil and negativeness that clung to her making her feel reborn.

The brothers looked wickedly beautiful, their black hair stuck to their backs, eyelashes sticky, skin glistening over toned muscles and scars. She was drifting on her back watching them. Elladan unwinding Elrohir’s braids, and rinsed his hair while the latter leaned backwards, face tilted up, eyes closed. It seemed such an intimate scene and she was grateful to be part of it, to see them this vulnerable. 

She wondered what they would think of her casual nakedness. She was still uncertain if the increasing physical touching was deliberate or just an innocent cultural phenomenon. The fact that they did it plain for the other brother to see made her think it was the latter. But then again, casual nakedness seemed not common in Elvish culture, judging by their reaction. Still, they stripped just as easily after their initial shock. She felt awkward asking them, but Elladan seemed to sense that she was brooding on something: “Rin, you can ask us anything… you know that..“

She plucked up her courage. “Well, I just want to apologize for undressing like that. I am not familiar with your customs, and I fear they are very different from mine. Is casual nakedness normal in Elf culture?” 

Elladan smiled, his lean fingers still tangled in his brother’s locks. “There is no taboo on nakedness. We do not shun the shape the Valar have blessed us with.” 

She released a breath that she did not know she was holding. “Well, that makes me feel less awkward and guilty at least!” 

Then she frowned. “So why were you embarrassed when I jumped the water?” 

Elladan released Elrohir’s hair while the latter suddenly slipped underneath the surface of the water soundlessly. He came up almost immediately, swimming towards shallow grounds with three sure strokes. The sudden change held her thoughts ransom. And Elrohir standing up, emerging out of the water, distracted her even further from her question. She just couldn’t help herself, her eyes were glued to his physique, glistening wet from the water; his very handsome backside, all the way from his broad shoulders, muscular back to his firm ass. 

Her mind momentarily stuck in time, she forgot about his brother next to her. Elladan had noticed her reaction with peaked interest. He felt a sudden urge to be close to her, to be close to her need for his brother. On impulse, he grasped her waist, pressing her hips into him. He felt her soft skin grinding his groin speeding up the blood in his veins. He whispered in her ear the truth that she was hiding with her silence. “He is quite something, isn’t he?” 

She gasped at his frankness, her blush felt like fire. She noticed Elrohir watching them, as if he could hear his brother’s words. Elladan softly laughed in her neck. Then he lifted her up, throwing her in the water without warning. She came up coughing, no time to overthink the strange remark that he made. She swam at him and punched his shoulder as hard as she could: “Baka! Why did you do that?” 

“Well, to cool off your head, obviously”, he grinned. 

“There was no need, baka. Your honour, both your honour is safe with me!” she laughed at his surprised look. Behind her, Elrohir laughed out loud.

They fell silent after a while. The cold water finally took its toll on her body heat and she noticed that she was shivering. Noticing her discomfort, Elladan suddenly became serious and took her reverently into his arms, bridal style. When their eyes met she saw for a moment a pained dark want in them that made her wonder about this more easy-going and good natured brother. She felt the cold air against her the skin of her more intimate parts, making her feel exposed and excited at the same time. He carried her towards the crackling fire and, regaining his mischievous grin, he dumped her next to it unceremoniously. 

Her blush was still burning on her cheeks as she tried to manoeuvre herself to sit in a decent manner, since she was still stark naked. She wanted to pull up her legs against her chest, but realised that her most intimate parts might be visible. After a second thought, she settled for it anyway, feeling it was better than to sit crossed legged and leaving her breasts visible. She did not want to prod those tigers again. 

Said tigers were ignoring her fidgeting with a relaxed aloofness. Behind her, Elrohir was hanging up the clothes that they rinsed during swimming as close to the fire as possible. When he was satisfied, he rummaged through the packs on the horses. Elladan was staring into the fire, sitting crossed legged facing her. 

Her body was heated from the exercise and the excitement, but she knew she could get hypothermia easily enough. She scooted as close to the flames as she could, staring at Elladan.

“You both did not answer my question.” 

Elladan answered her after a few moments of silence, without looking at her: “Well, we are familiar with the customs of mortals. It was not what we expected.” 

“Are their customs different?”

“The customs for mortals are strict. Men and women are not allowed to be naked together. Unmarried women can not have contact with men. Unless there is family or a chaperone present.” 

Rin felt the colour drain from her cheeks, what did they think of her now? 

“Nakedness occurs only after marriage.” Elrohir grinned and added: “Such complicated creatures, mortals.” 

Elladan smiled his easy smile as well and confirmed again: “So you see Rin, we were surprised by your ….. Elvish... behaviour. It was not befitting a mortal.” 

She nodded in understanding, but looking at Elladan’s serious eyes reflecting the flames of the fire, she suspected that there was more to it. 

“What about your customs, Rin?”

She felt herself blush again. “In Japan, nakedness is not taboo during bathing. And for interaction between males and females, there is no chaperone required. Men and women can be friends or even ‘date’ if they feel a deeper connection. That is also possible for people of the same gender. They do not have to answer to anyone on matters of the heart.”

Elladan blinked slowly. “Date?” 

She cursed under her breath. Why on earth did she bring this topic up? “Yes, you can go out for something to drink or to eat a meal, or do something together that you both enjoy. When there is a connection, you can decide to take the relationship further.” 

“Further?” 

She hesitated. This was getting awkward. “It can develop in a real relationship, where the man and woman are physically intimate and live their life together. They can marry or stay unmarried if they want. And they are relatively free to leave each other when the relationship is no longer satisfactory…” 

Elladan blinked again. “That seems at odds with our knowledge of mortals. Why do you bond physically when there is a chance that you might separate?” 

“Why not? If both consent, being intimate is pleasurable and preferable above celibacy, I think? And you have to see if you are compatible in that area, right?”

Elladan looked stunned. Elrohir had joined them at the fire, stark naked and completely unperturbed by it. She looked away while he sat down, not wanting to stare at his chest or groin. When she dared to look up again she noticed that he was staring at her strangely. “In the case of Elves, when love finds us, it is sacred to us: a bond unbreakable. The bond makes an Elf and and Elleth automatically compatible.” 

She felt confused by his choice of words. “What do you mean? Love finds you?” 

“True love will manifest itself both physically and mentally. It is not something that we can fight. It happens to us.” 

“It happens to you?” 

The twins looked at each other for a moment. Then Elladan said: “It is like a painful attraction, two forces pulling at each other with no chance to escape. Elves that cannot answer that call of their hearts will wither and fade. The only solution is to be together.” 

“And what happens when they give in to this attraction?” 

“The pair will bond physically.” 

Rin stared at him, her brain churning on this information. Seeing her confusion, Elladan added: “The act of physical love will bind a pair together, both fëa will connect. It is a connection that will exist until one or both fade.” 

Elrohir added: “So being physically intimate is not something taken lightly for it seals the union between Elf and Elleth…”

“I see.” She felt disappointment in the pit of her stomach. There was no chance of acting on this exciting tension between them. 

Elladan said curious: “Tell me Rin, have you…... dated?” 

She smiled at him: “Yeah I guess.” 

“And have you been in a real relationship like you described?” 

“Yes I have. But it didn’t last.” Her thoughts went to Hideo immediately. How would he have been taking the news of her disappearance?

Elladans features showed displeasure for a fleeting few seconds. He collected himself quickly: “What happened?” 

“I did not want to lose my freedom by being committed to a man.” 

They frowned. “Why would commitment take your freedom?” It was Elrohir that asked.

“I guess I fear to surrender of my heart. To be committed is to lose your freedom, to know pain.” It took a lot of her courage to confess this to the twins. She felt the familiar darkness eat at her. She desperately tried to suppress the unwanted emotions and images. 

Elladan seemed to understand. “It is not uncommon to ignore love out of fear to lose oneself. We have experienced similar feelings in our lives. But if there is a true bond, we will not be able to ignore it.” He stared at her and she felt herself blush at his words, thinking about the attraction that existed. Was he hinting on the impossibility of taking that attraction further?

When she felt dry enough she got up to check on her clothes. She thought she felt their eyes roaming her figure. Chancing a secret look and from the corner of her eye she saw that it was indeed the case. Did this not confirm her suspicions that they were attracted to her? 

She tried to ignore their stares, but it gave her butterflies throughout her body. Here she was standing, naked, in front of the two most beautiful men that she ever saw and they were openly checking her out. Never before did she feel like this, beautiful, wanted, respected and safe. 

But it was ridiculous! She only knew them for a few days! What were these feelings? How on earth did she develop these feelings for them both? Or was it lust? Why did they make her feel safe and trusted? They were total strangers, but she felt as if she had known them her whole life. Their interactions felt so natural, so right, just normal.

And how could she connect this to their customs? They had told her Elves were monogamous and sex was practically the same as marriage. So there was no way that they would fuck her with no strings attached. And she refused to succumb to love, to settle down with a man, let alone an Elf! What would such a life entail with either of these brothers? What would become of this attraction? 

She smiled to herself. Death and blood. And a part of her longed for that. 

Shaking her head at her foolish trail of thoughts, she tied the straps of her momohiki pants tight. 

“Rin, how did you get those scars?” 

The question was one that she dreaded. She had heard it before. It made her feel heavy but empty inside. The shadows around her became darker invading and clouding her mind. She did not like to be reminded of those witnesses carved into her back. They kept the memories captured deep inside her body, where they could not do any harm. Mentioning the scars would free them of their cage. Fear creeped up on her, making her hands shake. 

She dressed quickly, trying to keep her hands from showing her fear too much. Then she sat back at the fire. Elladan had started braiding Elrohirs hair. Elrohir sat, eyes closed, next to the fire. Elladan stared at her with concerned eyes. 

“You do not have to share memories that are too painful, Rin. I was merely curious what might have caused them since you ever only fought as a ...sport.” 

For the first time in her life, she hesitated. She never told anyone. Ever. Hideki asked once. After a night of passion, his hands trailing the scars idly, he had asked her about it. But she shoved his hands off, and told him to leave. She knew he felt hurt by her rejection of him. Their nightly interactions still happened regularly. But after that night, he closed off a part of himself as well. 

She could only be glad. But now… if anyone could understand, it would be them. They would understand...

She shook her head. She wasn’t ready. 

The twins seem to understand. Her damp clothes made shiver and Elladan invited her silently to sit on his lap. She felt her cheeks heat but sat on his lap nevertheless, mesmerized by the soft skin of his legs underneath her hands. Leaning back against his warm chest, his scent enveloped her like a warm blanket. It was not the potent stench of horses, blood and dirt, but a smell that had always been underneath that, and belonged only to him. 

She inhaled deeply, letting it invade her body intimately. She felt his warmth penetrate the cold fabric of her hoodie at her back. If he was aroused he did not show it, and in her fatigue she could not discern any difference between the various hard parts underneath her. His arms closed around her, his calloused hands, softened a bit by the water, stroking her belly and arms softly. He was murmuring a soft song in Elvish. Grateful, she lay her head against his shoulder, and drifted off to sleep. 

Xxxxxxxxx

Elrohir watched her sleep in his brother’s arms, his hands stroking her sleeping form. Elladan was slightly aroused, he noticed, and when their eyes met he did not hide it. It warmed his stomach seeing them like this and in that moment he wished to be even closer to his brother. He spoke softly in Elven tongue: “You feel it too, don’t you?” 

“Yes… I feel it, brother. We must not act on these urges. We are not compatible! We are together and she will choose. It is impossible!” Elladan’s whispering sounded exasperated, aware of how his own body responses belied his words. 

“Maybe she feels differently about it?” 

“Why would that be?”

“Well there is a purpose to this. She must be suitable, right?” 

“I fear that I do not know the whims of the mortal heart. Nor am I experienced with those of my own. We have purposely held off any possible bond through the centuries, my heart feels unaccustomed to such matters. Although she seems to feel some attraction, it is uncertain if they are of the same nature, no matter how often you strip before her.” 

Elrohir chuckled… “I can try that tactic again if in doubt?” 

“How can you jest about this? How will this not be destructive?” 

Elrohir grunted, suddenly angry: “You’re impossible! I will take first watch.” 

His brother bit: “This is not a casual attraction! If we act upon it, our lives will change. One of us will fade!” 

“You worry too much brother. Trust the Valar!”


	8. The next day the brothers acted distant …..

The next day the brothers appeared distant. She could not coax them into conversation. Elladan’s good natured smile had disappeared. To her own surprise, she felt hurt by it and could not help but wonder what she did wrong. She knew it was childish to seek the cause with herself, but she had no alternative theory, unless something happened during the night while she was sleeping. 

Riding with Elladan felt for the first time strained. He did not talk with her and seemed lost in his own thoughts. When she asked him if something was the matter, he smiled at her, saying it was nothing. But the smile did not reach his eyes. 

Noon passed and they ate some dried fruit in silence underneath a large oak tree. The brothers ignored each other. She suspected that they had an argument about something during the night. But what was the cause of it? 

Then Elrohir put her on Suldal and gave her the reins. “You ride for a while.” was all he grunted. She blinked at this and felt a bit apprehensive, but she took them without questioning. She had seen the brothers ride for days now and she had no doubt that they would not trust her with this if there would be risk either for horse or rider. Elrohir stroked Suldal’s neck, whispering Elvish into his ears. Then he stroked her leg, giving her short instructions. When she nodded in understanding he stalked off into the surrounding trees, disappearing from sight. Elladan snorted behind her.

After the first tricky moments, she soon felt comfortable with riding alone. Instead of his normally fiery character, Suldal was now steady and easy, no doubt as a friendly gesture towards her, at Elrohir’s request. Elladan would still not talk, but gave her encouraging nods whenever she sought eye contact. 

After an hour or so, Elrohir appeared, sitting on the branch of an enormous oak tree waiting for them. At the sight of them approaching he jumped down silent as a cat. He nodded at Rin, satisfied that she had a good connection with Suldal and could ride him well on her own now. He jumped behind her in the saddle, grasping her waist. He whispered a soft “Thank you.” in her ear and they continued their steady pace in between the trees. 

The land around them changed slowly. Trees became more scattered, the ground started to be more and more covered in grass. Suddenly the land seemed to plummet downwards into a see of grass as far as the eye could see. The wind created the illusion of waves, as if she was staring over a vast green ocean while standing on top of a surf. The air was crisp and clear, the smell of moisture and grass penetrating her senses. In the distance, hilltops were partially hidden in rain clouds. They formed a stark contrast to the sun-engulfed height that they were standing on, feeling the warm bright rays of the sun. 

Elladan pointed to the distance. “Imladris is a days ride from here, behind those hills.” 

Rin felt her stomach plummeting. This journey would end tomorrow! Her anger at the brothers for postponing their journey to hunt orcs seemed a lifetime away now. She caught herself thinking that she wanted this journey in the wild to last forever. She felt safe with them and they made her connect with that part of herself that she denied for so many years. 

There was uncertainty waiting for her in Rivendell. How would their father, Elrond, as she recalled from the books, judge her? Or could he help her find her way home? The idea that she had to leave the twins and go back to her life in Japan, sparring daily with Hideo, seemed preposterous. How could she live that empty life ever again? A life of bitter grief, of hiding her true self. There was nothing for her there. 

She was no fool, though. Life in Middle Earth was exciting so far, but she knew if the twins would go their own path away from hers …. Right now the twins distracted her from what was inside of her. What if the twins went their own way after reaching Rivendell? The thought made her stomach churn and she quickly tried to avert her thoughts. 

Then Elladan suddenly looked behind him to trees that were scattered behind them, staying very still, obviously sensing something. She followed his gaze, the trees casting deep shadows on the grass underneath the bright sun. The contrast was harsh, making the shadows impenetrable for her human eyes. She could not detect anything. After a while Elladan shared a knowing look with his brother, their mutual ire forgotten for the time being. They sprang into action within the blink of an eye, Elrohir was cursing behind her. 

They sat a quick pace, nudging their stallions in the flanks aggressively. But no sooner did they begin to thunder downhill that Elrohir cried out in pain and anger, her ears were ringing with it. 

Startled, she tried to see his face. His body weight suddenly pressed heavily into her back, forcing her to use her body strength to sit up straight to prevent herself from falling off the horse. He kept on groaning.

“Elrohir? Shimatta! What happened!” 

His usually strong voice sounded strained: “Shhh….Rin.… be quiet and ride for me… here… take the reins.” He spoke quick words in Elvish to Suldal, who leapt forwards with thundering speed, leaving Rin to hold on the horse and reins for dear life. Next to her Elladan was cursing. He rode alongside her for a while eyeing Elrohir with a rage in his eyes that she had not seen before. He yelled over the sound of the hooves: “Rin! He has been shot! Ride to the ruins over the hilltops ahead. Wait there for me and do not take the arrow out!” 

He unsheathed his sword with one quick move, the reflection of sunlight on the blade blinding her for a split second. For a moment he looked every inch the Elf Lord that he was, noble, ancient, beautiful and dangerous. He seemed to radiate power and his grey eyes were clouded by revenge. He shared one look with her. One intense look. And she yelled at him: “Be safe! Kill them all!” 

He gave her a nod, and abruptly steered his horse around and thundered uphill back towards the forest with incredible speed. She focused on the hilltops in the distance, trying desperately to follow Suldal’s movements and speed. Elrohir was silent behind her, his hands grasping her waist almost painfully. She had to get both of them to safety. 

The hilltops ahead seemed closer than she thought at first sight. Soon they were thundering uphill. The rainclouds had passed, leaving the grass wet and glistening. Noticing the ruins that Elladan spoke off, Rin slowed Suldal down into a canter in the way she saw Elrohir do so often. Riding towards the crumbling walls, she stopped at a particular one that stood up like ragged teeth. The stones were covered in lush ferns and other plants that she did not recognize. A part of a stone arch was still in place, giving some shelter from the weather and unfriendly eyes. 

She disentangled herself from Elrohir carefully and slid out of the saddle, careful to not tip him over. He was a mess. His face looked white, drained of color. He was panting, his back was covered in blood. An arrow with black and white feathers stuck out of his shoulder in an obscene way, causing an angry red bloodtrail. Slowly he lowered himself out of the saddle. He let her help him towards the broken remnants of the wall, sitting down with his side leaning against it. 

The sight of the arrow made her choke on her emotions. This adventure had felt dangerous but controllable due to the power of the brothers up until this moment. They made her feel safe and protected. And now suddenly, the adventure turned into a horror story and fear spiked in the pit of her stomach. 

Elrohir just sat there, eyes closed face contorted in pain. After his body adjusted to the new position, he opened his eyes, giving her a shaky smile. “Rin… do not be troubled… I have been wounded worse than this in the past.” He smiled at her worried frown and caressed her cheek with his fingers for a moment. 

“Will you be OK? Promise me you will be OK!” 

“Aye, you need not worry, Rin”, his voice became softer, and then he lost consciousness, leaving her startled. 

She checked his pulse. His heartbeat was steady and strong despite of the blood loss. She sighed. If only Elladan was here now. How was he faring? She did not touch the arrow as Elladan had told her not to take the arrow out. If only he was here now… Waiting for him made her feel anxious. She had unfaltering faith in their skills, but Elrohir being shot dented that faith. Would Elladan be able to kill the ones who shot his brother? Why did it take such a long time? 

Dusk neared, in its wake a dense white fog that enveloped the ruins and made her feel desperate. How was he supposed to find them now? Covering Elrohir in the mantle keeping him warm, she unsheathed her katana to be prepared in case the enemy would find them instead of Elladan. 

She sat poised with her back against the wall, her body alert. Only a few moments before all light would disappear, she heard the dull sound of hooves on grass. Hiding behind the wall, she held her breath and listened to a rider jumping on the ground, leading the horse further by hand. 

When the sounds reached the edge of the wall, she let her body uncoil and sprang into action, her katana at throat height. A sharp sound reverberated through the mist when her katana connected to a sword that she recognized immediately: “Elladan! Kami!” she cried and flung her arms around his neck. 

She heard a tired grunt and felt his arms encircling her waist, stroking her back softly. He stuck his nose in her neck for a short while relishing her warmth and smell. Then he asked her softly, “How is he?” 

“Not good. He lost a lot of blood and he is unconscious. We need to get the arrow out.” 

He released her and kneeled next to his brother. He cursed softly, fumbling with a knife that he took from the folds of his clothing. Without looking at her he said: “I need light Rin. How long will it take for you to make your ….. lantern to work?” 

She stared at him for a few seconds until she realised what he was talking about. 

“Which horse?” 

“Mithroch.” He still did not look at her, his hands softly stroking his brother’s face. 

She felt her way through the content of his saddlebags until her fingers met a familiar shape. She janked it free from its hiding place and pressed the button feverishly. When an unnatural white light caused reflections on the twin’s weaponry, she sighed in relief. 

She guided his searching hands with the lantern and in the small circle of light, she noticed that he was splattered with blood, his hair on the right side dried to hard strands. A cut was visible on his arm, not deep but it looked painful. It was odd to use this light from 21st century earth here. The whiteness of the light made it unnatural, alien. It did not belong there and it did not feel familiar to her any longer.

Elladan cut through the layers of Elrohir’s tunic, exposing his shoulder and back, carefully avoiding touching the arrow. He examined the wound carefully. After a while he let out a breath and sat down with a grunt, shoulders sacking. “I think the arrowhead is barbed and has penetrated his bone, how deep I cannot say. I am uncertain if it is poisoned. This is beyond my healing skills in the field ….” 

She felt tears. She had been scared to lose Elrohir and Elladan’s words did nothing to ease her mind. On impulse she hugged Elladan from behind for comfort. He stiffened but then held her hands, relishing the feel of her behind him. 

“Let me look at your arm.” 

“It is just a scratch. Leave it.” 

“Suit yourself then. So now what?” 

“First we need to bind his wound to keep it from infecting or bleeding too much. We need to get him on one of the horses somehow without risking him falling of and injuring him further.” 

Rin nodded apprehensively. “How do you propose to do that?” 

He fell silent for only a moment, thinking. “Unfortunately, the shaft of the arrow has penetrated his shoulder from the back, therefore I cannot support him sitting in front of me. In that position there will be, with every movement of the horse, some strain on the shaft, causing pain and more damage. No, the better option is for him to sit behind me.” 

Rin blinked. “But how will he not fall off? He is barely awake!” 

“We have to tie him to me to secure him. There is rope in one of the saddlebags. There is more risk for him to fall off the horse, so we need to try to keep him awake and alert.” 

“Right...:” She did not see how this could work, but she trusted him. 

“We are very near the borders of my father’s realm, we must make haste from now on. My father is a skilled healer. We need to reach him soon.” But despite the urgency of his words, he kept sitting in her embrace like dead weight. He felt tired and emotionally worn down and she felt so right behind him. 

“How many...” she asked quietly. 

“Eleven. It was the scout that shot him. The others were behind, unaware of the death of their informant. It was in my advantage.” 

She pulled his shoulders abruptly to see him in the eye. “Eleven? Have you lost your mind! You should have fled to get me! I could have helped!” She felt angry by the risk that he took. 

“I have killed more whilst alone in the past. I rather have perished than to risk your safety in battle. I cannot guarantee it without my brother.” 

She blinked at his statement. “Shimatta! Your life over mine? You have known me only for a week!” 

He stared at her intently: “Does that really matter?” 

“Well… “ she hesitated. 

“I care for you, Rin.” 

She gaped at him. She closed her mouth after a while, unable to speak still. Then she said in a soft voice: “I thought you were mad at me today….” 

“That was not your fault Rin. I was at odds with my brother. Complicated forces work around us. We have not penetrated the depths of it as of yet. Let us leave this subject for now and get my brother to my father’s realm.”

She nodded, noticing distantly that he did not call Rivendell ‘home’. After getting rope, water, bandages and some herbs from the saddlebags, they tried to wake Elrohir, who responded only after repeated tries. He seemed too weak to take on a position that would enable his brother to treat his wound, so Elladan pulled him up with care to position him better. Then, without mercy, he broke off the arrow shaft with a loud snap, making Elrohir cry out in pain. He cleaned the skin surrounding the wound with some water. Then he put herbs soaked in some water around the arrow shaft and bound it with the bandages some light pressure, making sure the shaft was protected by a soft barrier of cloth around and over it.

Elrohir was barely conscious. But they needed to get him on the horse. After a few futile attempts to get him up Elladan slapped him in his face hard. Startled for a moment, Elladan blinked at him owlishly. “Aye, aye, brother… I know… !” he growled. 

Elladan pulled him up, Elrohir’s hands gripped around his forearms like hawk’s claws. His jaw was working, his face contorted in pain. With his inhuman strength Elladan lifted him onto the horse somehow, ordering him to sit up. He quickly sat in front of him. Rin, who had already mounted Suldal, helped him winding the piece of rope around them both, to make sure he would not fall off the horse. Elrohir groaned in pain trying to sit comfortably without pain. He settled for wrapping his arms around Elladan’s waist, his head leaning on his shoulder, his hair falling around his face like a silk curtain. 

When they were set, Elladan looked at Rin saying softly. “You will be alright Rin? Let’s keep an easy pace.” She nodded and gritted her teeth, taking the reins. 

They rode for hours. In the early morning at first light, the hills made way for an oak forest, crisp leaves cracking underneath their horses’ hooves. Rin’s thoughts were with Elrohir constantly. Being shot by an arrow was nothing like in movies she decided. In movies, characters would ride on or fight on with arrows sticking out of them as if it were nothing. But strong brave Elrohir was almost unconscious from blood loss, pain and perhaps poison from this one. 

Whilst riding, he had been sagged limply against brother, using his remaining energy to hold on to his brother. Elladan spoke to him and prodded him from time to time to ensure he stayed awake. Still, she kept being worried sick about him. 

She could tell that Elladan was extremely anxious. With his free hand, he touched Elrohir’s legs and arms almost constantly, his graceful fingers stroking lovingly. He sang from time to time and chanted whispered Elvish words into his ears, his hand wandering towards his brother’s head, trailing through his black silken locks, twirling the ends around his fingers. 

Rin watched the open display of affection in fascination. It was not normal brotherly behaviour. They seemed too close, too physical with each other. But the intimacy of the scene just made her insides melt. It was painfully beautiful, this affection, but at the same time confusing. She felt attracted by it. She wanted to be part of it. 

What was the nature of their bond exactly? They were so close, but she felt she just scratched the surface of their secrets. What would one be without the other? The only fact she was certain about, was that she could not imagine them apart. It would be just wrong...

She studied Elladan who rode at her side. The dried blood on his skin stood out on the whiteness of his skin in the clear morning light. He looked tired and worn down, his skin almost transparent, dark circles underneath his eyes. But through his fatigue there was a calmness radiating from him that comforted her. A tension she didn’t know she had was released, making her more relaxed in the saddle. Ever sensitive to her moods, he seemed to notice a difference in her demeanor and smiled warmly. 

“You can let go of your worries soon, Rin. It will not be long ere we reach the Ford of Bruinen which marks the borders of my fathers realm.” 

She smiled at him wistfully: “I am glad and sad at the same time.” 

He looked surprised at her words: “Why would this sadden you?” 

Feeling shy she pushed on nevertheless: “It means that our journey in the wild is ending. And I am not sure what lies ahead of me. And...” she added in a smaller voice: “I rather liked this roaming through the wild with the both of you….” 

Elladan was unable to speak. His chest filled with a warm fluid it seemed, making his lungs heave air painfully. Butterflies burst out in his stomach. This mortal! It was like she was custom-made for them. What woman would find enjoyment in travelling the wild with two Elf brothers, seeking out life-threatening danger that was lurking around every corner? But there she was, right in front of him. He stared at her, amazed. He felt Elrohir’s arms tighten around his waist and vaguely wondered if he heard their conversation. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, you did not. I am merely surprised at your remark, it is not the reaction that I expected from a female, and a mortal woman at that. Bloodshed would be the breaking point to most I suspect.” he raised one eyebrow at her, smirking.

She giggled: “I am not most…” 

“Indeed…” he added thoughtfully. And to his satisfaction, she blushed.


	9. They reached the Ford of Bruinen without…

She heard, as she learned later, the Ford of Bruinen before she saw it. The clear sound of water cascading gently over smooth rocks and boulders was soothing. The uneven river bedding made the sound of water surprisingly musical, as if the river played a complex but subtle piece of music. The smell of pine trees hung heavy in the air, the sweet smell invading all her senses. She took a deep breath and instantly a peaceful feeling took a hold of her. Looking to Elladan she noticed he had stopped the horse and sat still as a statue in the saddle, eyes closed, nostrils flaring. A great calm seemed to take hold of him and she wondered if there was more to the water than met the eye. Elrohir behind him did not stir. 

After the crossing, the land changed abruptly. Within a few hundred meters, a new kind of tree appeared with a white trunk and leaves of gold and pale green, a faint echo of birch trees. In between them the ground seemed tidy, she had no other word for it, as if the shrubs were clipped, the grass was vacuum cleaned, no fallen leaves or branches to be seen. The horses seemed to know their way, the reins felt useless in her hands. Soon they rode up a smooth hill on a grassy road. While descending on the other side, wind swept up from the valley, grasping her hair whipping it around her head blocking her eyes from the view. 

When she freed her face from her stubborn long locks, she saw a magnificent set of buildings against the other side of a grand green valley. Focussing her eyes, she noticed that the buildings seemed constructed with care and mastery, showing many terraces facing the hilltop where she was standing. The sun shone brightly, illuminating the structures and making them shine with delicate quality. 

Looking at Elrohir, sagged behind his brother she frowned concerned: “Should we not make haste?” 

“That would be unwise, we will risk injuring him further if we pick up pace. The guards have detected us long before we crossed the Ford of Bruinen, they will fetch my father, and arrange special transport for my brother as we speak.”

Butterflies hit her stomach instantly. Soon, she would meet Elrond himself. She felt nervous for meeting the master of Rivendell and she felt even worse about him being their father. What would he think of her? Would she be allowed to stay? Also, she would meet a lot more Elves. She dreaded facing so many new persons at the same time. She kind of happened upon the twins and everything evolved in a steady pace from there. She had time to adjust to them and while travelling, conversation came naturally. Social events where she had to make idle talk with strangers, were not her forte. 

She only socialized with a few training partners in Japan, mainly Hideo. She liked to be on her own. She did not go to parties or clubs. The cabin in the wood was her idea of a relaxed weekend. And now... Swallowing, she forced herself to think only about Elrohir and the medical attention that he needed. As long as she was with the twins, she would be alright. Right? 

After an hour riding in a steady pace, the road straightened and ran underneath a canopy of golden leaf trees. The trunks of these trees seemed to be exceptionally straight and even. After some time, the canopy was slowly replaced by simple wooden pointed gothic arches, placed a few meters apart from each other. They were rich in colour and modest of width, only three horses could pass. They reminded her of torii in Japan; the red gateways to Shinto sanctuaries. 

After a while the road reached a round space fringed with ancient trees, their trunks bend and crooked with age, like olive trees. On the far side of the space, a stone staircase with uneven and worn down steps climbed up the hill and soon winded out of sight. Two ancient stone statues flanked the beginning of the staircase, like guards. They were weather beaten, green with moss, their shape diffused by age. 

Upon entering the open area, an armed Elf that stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, raised his hand in a silent greeting to Elladan. Rin stared at him amazed. He was so different and yet the same as the twins. Fair of face, noble even, but eyes of the same eerie blue color as a husky dog and golden hair, flowing from underneath an elaborately forged helmet. He wore a minimal amount of armour, not like a knight, less bulky and more practical: a leather outfit padded with metal plates on the shins, the arms, shoulders, chest and back. Individually strapped to his body, the armour was protective but also allowed the Elf to move freely. The metal seemed to shine from within, the elaborate designs glowing. The motives of his round shield, were mimicked in the decoration of his weaponry. 

Behind him three Elves hurried down a long winding stair with worried faces. The first was dark haired, clad in grey-blue tunic and tight pants, leather shoes, his grey cape following his hurried pace down the stairs. The other two Elves were fair haired and dressed in light grey tunics and pants. They carried a stretcher in between them, slowing them down. 

When they reached Elladan, they cried with concerned voices in Elvish. She could not understand what they were saying but she did hear them speak Elrohir’s name. 

The tallest of the three, inspected Elrohir’s vitals and then commanded the other two in quick clipped words to untie him and lift him off the horse with care. 

“Orc arrow, maybe poisoned.” Elladan said in Elvish. The tall Elf stared at him pointedly, “You were lucky. As always” 

Elladan gritted his teeth in annoyance: “Do not start this discussion Lindir, for I tire of it.” 

Lindir looked agitated but left the discussion for what it was, following the two guards that carried Elrohir up the stairs in haste. 

While they dismounted the horses, the Elf guard whistled, loud and high, and then low again. More Elves appeared as if on cue from in between the trees, greeting Elladan with reverence and then took the horses by the reins. 

Rin stroked Suldal’s head, putting her forehead against his muzzle, mumbling a quiet thank you to the horse. The Elf that held him, looked at her curious, softly saying something that she could not understand. Then he smiled. His ageless face showed the tiniest lines around the corners of his blue eyes, his teeth were peculiarly white, almost unnatural. She returned his smile and nodded. Then, she felt Elladan’s hand on her shoulder, his warmth radiating from him, heating her side. They stood there for a while watching the horses disappear in between the trees. It felt strange to not have them around. 

Elladan squeezed her shoulder. “We can check on them tomorrow if you wish. They are in good care now.” 

She nodded silently. He let go of her and motioned with one arm towards the stairs, one corner of his mouth curved into a small teasing smile. “After you, my lady.” 

She frowned at him, thinking this was not the time for teasing and walked up the stairs. Suddenly the worry for Elrohir kicked in again and she picked up her pace, rushing up the steps. Elladan seemed in no hurry. She paused and stared down at him. 

He looked apologetic at her. “We are of no use in the House of Healing when my father is in charge. They will not let us in before they are done with him, which will be many hours. Let us get cleaned up now and rest, he will be alright, I promise.” 

“Really? Swear it to me!” 

Her fierce attitude on the matter startled him, but he shook his head earnestly. 

“I will not swear it to you, since the way life runs its course is sometimes elusive. But I will tell you this, Rin; he and I have been wounded worse than this, in the past. And although I have been troubled by his state, and I have felt his pain on our journey here as if it were my own, he is now in the care of the most skilled healer in Middle Earth. You must leave your worries behind now, for they serve no purpose.” 

She nodded reluctantly wondering how he could just flip that switch in his head. On the top of the stairs, he took her hand reverently, squeezing it softly to give her comfort. He smiled at her and she felt warmth flooding her body instantly. 

“He will be alright, Rin. Come, let us rest for a while and rid ourselves of this dirt. I am sure my brother would not mind, but others may take offence.” He stared at her for a moment and then his mouth curved into a sly smile again. “And I would not want my brother becoming pray of your foul mood again, if it can be helped by mere hot water and soap!” 

She tried to shoot daggers at him with her eyes but failed, a giddy laugh forcing itself up through her body. He led her to the right, through a wide passageway that penetrated the thicket, laughing merrily. His hand felt warm and dry in hers, the gesture intimate and comforting. It somehow felt natural after their ordeal. He managed to lift her spirits, but a small part of her could not let go of her worry. 

Soon they followed what seemed to be a winding staircase towards a higher platform. When they reached the top she gasped. The view was magnificent. Looking out over the valley, the golden light caressed her face, warming her body. 

Crossing many terraces and smaller staircases, she started to notice her fatigue. Her feet were hurting, her legs tired and heavy. Then, to her relief, he led her towards a large door of elaborate design. Two trees were carved in the wood, the branches reaching each other at the top of the door, which was decorated with many animals entwined with floral patterns. Two wolves stared at her from the centre of it. 

Silently, he led her inside and closed the door after her. The silence that filled the room was unnatural. Being in nature for so many days, with the wind and sounds of animals and plants around her constantly, the silence and lack of movement of air was suffocating, the room felt like a vacuum. 

The apartment, for that was what it seemed to be, was soberly decorated. They were standing in a large room with white plastered walls and the heavy wooden ceiling was held up by smooth wooden pillars. Where the top met the heavy beams, the capitals were decorated with complex patterns of leaves. On the other side of it, were large doors that stood ajar. She caught a glimpse of another terrace with a mighty vista. In front of it, stood a daybed. The middle of the room contained a large heavy wooden table with six chairs and a wall full of books. The table was littered with paperwork, scrolls and books. There was another room where she saw a large king size bed, the headboard decorated with the two wolves again. High above the headboard was a round window, through which light fell in beams onto the bed. 

Elladan opened the doors further and she followed him onto the terrace and she gasped at the beautiful view. When she looked at his face, it was unreadable, while he stared into the distance. 

“Is this your house?” 

He smiled that darn beautiful smile of his, the light of the sun making his eyes shine silver. “Yes, I share it with my brother.” 

“Why the wolves? You even have them on your cape.” she stretched out her hand to touch the wooden clasp of his mantle. 

“Centuries ago, we have started this hunt of the enemy, always together. My people compared us to wolves because they hunt in packs and if they choose a companion, it is a choice that will last their lives. It seems a fit comparison to the relationship I have with my brother.”

She nodded at him in understanding. 

He disappeared in the bedroom and appeared again, walking barefoot with only a white tunic and pants on. The tunic fell open partially, showing a glimpse of his pale chest making her blush. She cursed in her mind, what was this idiotic attraction! Underneath his arm he carried some white cloths. She was sure he noticed her blush. His eyes were twinkling mischievously, but he did not make a remark on the matter. Instead he motioned with his head towards the door: “Let us find that hot water shall we?” 

\--------------------

To her utter and blissful delight, he led her towards beautiful natural hot springs, bubbling up in between grey smooth rocks. The springs were all natural, but the entrance was Elf made, elaborate sculptures marking it. They undressed without shame and lowered themselves into the water. She could not smother a groan of ecstasy. The water was hot almost, immediately soothing her muscles. She fell all tension drain from her muscles and mind and disappear into the water. What a bliss! She missed the onsen of her home, a daily habit after training that made life bearable. 

She saw Elladan relish the water with the same intensity as herself. Lowering his body all the way until his nose. Only hissing when the water touched the cut in his arm.

They had the hot springs for themselves. It was noon and according to Elladan everyone was eating in the central halls. She felt pleased at the thought. The idea that she needed to socialise at this moment frightened her. She just wanted to be with Elladan and enjoy their silence in the hot water. She sighed, letting herself drift off. 

He grabbed her elbow suddenly, softly warning her: “Don’t fall asleep in the water…”

“I won’t…. Just enjoying the warmth.” 

He seemed satisfied. “Good….I do not wish to have another casualty at my hands….” his eyes were soft. His features relaxed and open. She noticed his hair was still braided and stiff with blood. 

“Here, let me…” she swam towards him and settled behind him in the water. He stiffened for a moment but soon relaxed. She reached for his hair, marvelling at the silk like texture in the parts without blood. She undid his braids with difficulty, straightening out his long tresses. There were wooden bowls standing nearby and she reached for one. She scooped water and rinsed his hair with it, running her fingers through it carefully. The blood seeped in rivulets over his back into the water. With every scoop of water he seemed more relaxed, she saw his muscles loosen, his head tilted more backwards, his eyes closed. 

When all the blood was gone she murmured: “There you go. All clean…” but she did not swim to sit at his side. Instead, feeling bold, she leant into him, her breasts touching his back. She blushed furiously but the need to touch him was so strong that she could not resist. She wrapped her arms around his chest and his waist, caressing his soft skin and leaned her head against his back. They sat there for a while like that and she felt him, for a second time, slowly relax in her arms. 

After some time, she released him and sat back at his side. Her blush still burned at the thought of facing him after her display of affection. When she cast a shy glance she saw his intense stare, nostrils flaring. His jaw was set. Butterflies erupted, what was this tiger going to do now? Plucking up her courage she faced him head on, staring into those dark eyes, showing the dark want in her own. 

He stared at her for a few moments and then he grasped her waist and pulled her into him, his lips smashing into hers with force. HIs tongue demanded entrance aggressively. She opened her lips and the kiss deepened, tightening things low in her body. 

He pulled her onto his lap hard and forced her legs straddling him, her intimate parts completely opened up for him. His fingers pressed into skin of her thigh painfully, she was sure it would leave bruises the next day. His body was rock hard against her and his erection pressed against her pelvis almost painfully. One hand clawed her hair, pulling her head backwards and she felt his lips grazing her neck, causing goose bumps instantly. She let out a shaky moan. He hissed upon hearing her enjoy his teeth and he smashed into her lips a second time. Releasing her lips, they were both panting, trying to catch their breath, staring wildly at each other, pupils dilated. Then he released her abruptly, almost pushing her away: “Sorry Rin. I made a vow to you. This will not happen again.” 

She stared at him confused, searching her brain for something to say. “What do you mean?” 

He stared at her angrily: “This cannot be, Rin! You must understand! You are mortal. We have always been together! You must let us go now before one of us gets hurt!” he grabbed her by the arms staring wildly into her eyes: “I cannot lose him!” 

She stared at him as if she saw fire burning: “Why would you lose him?” 

He cursed, standing up abruptly, leaving the hot spring, drying his body with one of the cloths. She saw his erection still pressed against his lower belly. Tears sprang into her eyes. What was happening? Why was he so angry? One moment he kissed her, the next he pushed her away! It confused her. It was the same with their mood earlier! One time they seemed angry, the next they were affectionate. What was up with these brothers? 

She got out of the water as well, drying herself off and following him back towards their house. She needed to run barefoot to catch up with him. When they reached the door of his quarters, she grabbed his arm making him turn to face her: “Elladan! I will not hurt either of you! But you need to explain things to me soon, because I do not understand, you infuriating Elf! You cannot push me around like this!” 

He did not look at her but supported himself against the door, hands braced on the wood. When she finished he slapped the wood with a thundering sound, yelling inarticulate. When the anger seemed to pass, he said softly, almost defeated. “Aye, Rin, I know. Let us talk later. But for now, we must see my brother.” 

\-------------------

He lay in a simple bed in a bright room with open windows, a gentle breeze stirring white see-through curtains. His face was peaceful, his lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks, his dark hair was, for once, not braided, a stray lock of hair from the back lay on the covers. His face had a normal colour again, the arrow was seemingly removed and the wound was wrapped in bandages. 

An Elf who could only be Elrond himself, sat in a large wooden chair next to the bed, watching his son with unreadable eyes. He was dressed in the colors of the woods surrounding his realm, his face ageless, eyes full of wisdom, dark hair matching that of his sons. Power and might radiated from him, filling the tiny room with heavy air, almost too heavy to breathe. 

Rin’s noticed him only vaguely while hastily walking towards the bed. Looking down on him, tears sprang from her eyes, until she cried fully. All the tension of the past few days combined with her recent argument with Elladan poured out of her. Softly she whispered his name, taking his hand tentatively. His eyes fluttered open immediately as if he sensed her presence even in sleep: “Meleth nîn … do not cry over me. I am fine….” 

Elladan froze behind her, while Elrond felt the blood draining from his face. Meleth nîn, the meaning stirred his understanding like a bolt of lightning. His son had been talking during his ordeal. And now the broken pieces of his sons rambling fell together with thundering finality upon hearing these words. These words explained the stubborn presence of this mortal child in his son’s thoughts. It explained the tears that she shed for him before his eyes. He recognized instantly the beginning of a bond between them. 

Blessed and cursed with the gift of foresight, many possibilities passed before his mind’s eye. The infiniteness of them swirling around him like a vortex. His love for his sons clouded his mind, making him too emotional to read the events around his sons with clarity. He stood up abruptly, the chair making a hissing sound on the floor, and he nearly staggered towards the door, his thoughts in disarray. 

He could not oversee the consequences of the situation yet, but it was certain that he would lose at least one of his sons, and maybe both. He could not remember the last time he felt pain like this soaring through his body, almost ripping his fëa apart. Before he lost control over his carefully build reserve, he pushed past Elladan, fleeing the room. 

The latter was as well utterly shocked by the display. In the wilderness the closeness between the three of them was obvious and ever present. But in this stark white room in Rivendell, reality seemed to light the consequences of that closeness in all its ugly beauty. 

His brothers choice of words, made the inevitable, reality. He felt left behind by his brothers boldness and he felt fear deep in the pit of his stomach. Rin did not understand the consequences of this bond, nor was it clear if she felt it herself. He was on the verge of losing his brother or the possible love of this girl and it scared him, a fear that he had not felt for centuries. 

Paradoxically he sat down in the chair next to the only person that would understand and could comfort him. He grasped his brothers good shoulder, shaking it softly: “Good to see you mended.” 

Elrohir smiled at him, barely able to tear his eyes from Rins’. Sharing a look, realisation dawned on him and sadness and understanding filled his eyes. He nodded at his brother, his jaw working. 

Soon, a soft knock on the door startled them. An Elleth came in the room. “Forgive me, my Lords, my Lady. Master Elrond requested me to take the Lady to her quarters and for Lord Elladan to join him in his study. Lord Elrohir needs to rest now. Please follow me, my lady.” 

Rin frowned. Looking at the brothers with doubtful eyes. “My own quarters?” but with a sinking feeling, she understood. Of course. Their free life in the woods had ended. They would be separated from now on, it would not be proper to sleep with them, live with them the way they did for the past days. She sighed in defeat and followed the Elleth sending a longing look to the brothers. 

Elladan smiled at her: “We will meet for dinner in the Great Hall, Rin. You will be alright.” But just like the other time, the smile did not reach his eyes, confusing her greatly. 

\---------------------

The Elleth led her to a beautiful apartment with a nice view over the valley. Clear water clattered merrily from underneath the terrace, cascading over rocks down into a larger river. The apartment consisted out of two rooms, one with a hearth with in front of it a comfortable chair and a chaise-longue, behind it, a large table and chairs. The second room had a single bed, a dress draped upon it, for her to wear no doubt. All the furniture was beautifully carved. There were murals on the walls depicting stories that she was unfamiliar with. The walls around the murals were painted a dusty blue that complemented the warm brown of the ancient wooden beams and columns. When the Elleth left and the door closed, the silence was deafening. 

She lay her katana on the bed and took off her hoodie, she might be clean, but her clothes still smelled like death. Rummaging around she found some soap and decided to wash her clothing in the fountain that she had seen outside. Not wanting to scare the locals, she wore the dress that was lying on the bed, a lavender color that she really hated. 

When her clothes were drying in the sun, she sat on the railing of the terrace to enjoy the vista. She had a lot to think about. It was the first time since she got lost in this world that she was alone. She used to love being on her own. And now, she could only think that she missed their presence. She missed being with them, talk to them, riding the horses. She missed their bickering, their hands and their glances. The feeling was so intense that she felt literally as if a part of her was gone. 

Tears formed in her eyes again. What was happening to her and why were they pushing her away? It was obvious that they withheld something of importance from her. It was obvious now that they were attracted to her, but they also kept pushing her away. It hurt that they did not tell her why. Did they knew they hurt her? 

Searching her own feelings she knew that apart from lusting after them, she felt a strong mental connection to them. As if they were pieces of a broken puzzle, they just fitted together perfectly. She felt at ease, respected and safe with them. They were just awesome and they somehow managed to extract her darkest secrets from her in a few day’s time. They seemed to understand intuitively just how her mind worked asking the right question at the right time, they sensed her moods and knew how she felt. And in the process somehow some old trauma and hurt seemed to have mended, if only a little bit. 

She wondered where these newly discovered feelings would take her. After the incident she had not cared about marriage or children. Only her sword was important. And her revenge. There was nothing else. To stay in Middle Earth robbed her of her revenge was hard to wrap her mind around. But she could live with that, if it meant roaming the wild with these twins, hunting orcs. In the wild this seemed a possible future, but here in Rivendell, she was unsure. She knew nothing of their life here, of the people or elves in it, of the expectations of their father and the responsibilities that they had. 

Her mind was approaching her situation again and again from the same angles, she was not getting any further. She could sense that they felt something for her. But what was it that held them back? She could think of a few things. She was mortal and not from this world. And they were of noble birth, centuries old and powerful. Why would they spend their lives with her in the wild hunting orcs? Maybe their father would be opposed. And what if they felt attraction or lust, but nothing more? Was that even possible? They had told her about Elvish coupling and it confused her, it was so abstract and it had no connection to the feelings that tormented her mind and body. 

Was it selfish of her to claim them for herself? To claim a life in the wild? She only met him for a few fleeting minutes but it was clear that Elrond rather had his sons in Rivendell more often. He was worried about them and loved them. 

Her thought kept ploughing the same topics over and over again, drawing circles in her mind until she forgot about time and place. She became aware when dusk came. Lanterns were lit in all the buildings, creating a soft shimmering atmosphere that seemed magical. And then the Elleth came to get her for dinner. 

“Right, hold on. I need to get dressed.” 

“But you are dressed my Lady!” the Elleth was confused. Her fine blond brows knitted together.

“But these are not my clothes.” she grunted, irritable. And she stepped in the apartment, her moist clothing in her arms. It felt shitty to be dressed in wet clothes, but it was better than to wear a lavender dress. She followed the still frowning Elleth towards the Great Hall dressed in black, her arms full of scratches and the wounds from her journey, the racer back stuck to her body as a second skin, the katana strapped to her back. The weight of the weapon gave her courage. She was about to face a hall full of elves. She rather faced an army of orcs.


	10. She dreaded a sudden deep silence….

She dreaded a sudden deep silence when she entered and a lot of unwanted attention, but the banquet, for that was what it was, was merry and took all the attention of the participants. Only a few eyes were cast at her. She noticed how their demeanour turned to one of puzzlement, but she felt no negative judgement as if they were used to strange looking and armed travellers, dining in their halls. Soon they returned to their food and their company. 

Collecting her thoughts and wit, she frantically searched for Elladan. He was at the end of the Hall, sitting at a table, higher up on a dais, on the right side of his father. 

The sight took her breath away. She stood frozen, staring at him in awe. He was dressed in dark blue, a silver band around his head complimenting his grey and silver eyes. His hair was elaborately braided, shining in the candle light. His eyes wise, his air royal, his face of ageless beauty. Seated next to him was his father. Elrond’s timeless face seemed to shine, a star on his brow, he wore his power like a cloak. 

Rin saw them that night as mortals rarely saw them; two Elf Lords confident in their power, beautiful and untouchable. And she suddenly felt fearful. A deep fear of losing him. 

He had not noticed her yet when she stood there, staring at him. And in this in between moment, she thought of fleeing. She could flee from Rivendell, disappear, and she would never know the pain of losing them. And they would be lost to her eventually, it was inevitable. She could not bare that pain, it would destroy her. She had to protect herself, she had to survive. She must survive to take revenge. The thought burned in her mind. But his beauty held her captive in that moment. She stood there, rooted to the spot, waiting, like a fearful deer in the headlights of a car, for his eyes to capture her. Until finally they did. 

He sprang into action, walking towards her, and she seemed unable to move. When he was close enough for her to feel his body heat, he took her hand, pressing a chaste kiss to it, murmuring: “You look beautiful tonight, Rin.” He smiled warmly at her, his smile real this time, their argument seemingly forgotten. 

She frowned in make belief. “Beautiful? In these worn down clothes?” 

He frowned back at her, his eyes travelling determinedly up and down her body. “The clothes suit you, I cannot imagine you in anything else, Rin. But I was not referring to your clothes when I mentioned your beauty.” His eyes seemed to penetrate her, reading her thoughts and she felt naked once again, the familiar blush creeping through her skin. 

Chuckling, he led her towards the table on the dais. “Please join us. You are most welcome at our table in this House.” He pointed to a vacant seat next to a tall elf with golden hair and eyes the colour of cornflowers, his beauty almost suffocating. 

She sat down hesitantly, while Elladan pushed the chair a bit towards the table, whispering in her ear: “Are you well, Rin?” She nodded silently. 

Xxxxxxxx

The evening passed in a blur. The wine filled her head like champagne. The blond Elf was friendly, introducing himself as Glorfindel, a name she remembered from the books, but could not pinpoint. He was a pleasant companion, his eyes held wisdom and eagerness, his nature was curious and their conversation circled around her homeland and the art of sword fighting. His blue eyes were sharp and did not miss any details while surveying her face with infinite attention. Whenever he moved a whiff of summer seemed to linger. It was difficult to make out, but it reminded her of the smell of the moisture in fresh grass under influence of the sun. It was sweet, warm and filled her senses completely. 

The food was delicious and the music and the songs that were sung touched her heart and she noticed after a while to her own surprise, that she was laughing and sometimes even weeping over some stories that he shared. He did not remark on the matter and she felt no shame for it.

In the haze of the evening, she could not help glancing at Elladan. He was deep in conversation with his father and whenever he met her eyes, his face was impassive, his gaze steady. But the merrier her time with Glorfindel, the more dark his eyes became and she almost felt his irritation growing. Glorfindel seemed to notice it as well. Halfway a conversation about the similarities between Elf beliefs on nature and Shinto religion in Japan, he cocked his head to the side and looked at him quizzically. 

“Is something ailing you, Master Elladan?” he showed a lenient smile. 

Elladan frowned, replying in Elvish, the words clipped and fast. 

Glorfindel leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. Then, after a short silence he stood from his chair en bowed his head towards him, replying in Elvish. 

She noticed Elrond frowning as well and Elladan looked so agitated. What was going on? 

When Glorfindel was seated and Elladan caught up in conversation again, she whispered to him: “What was that about?”

Raising a glass of wine towards his lips, he smiled softly. “Well, dear Rin. It seems that Master Elladan is somewhat protective of you.” 

“Protective?” she felt her cheeks heat up, but she was not sure if it was out of excitement or frustration. 

“Indeed. He has kindly reminded me of my rather high age in the light of our rather pleasant conversation.” 

She blanched and almost cried out: “He did what?”

“Well I think it is clear what he meant, don’t you think?” 

She stared at Elladan. The heat in her cheeks was indeed caused by extreme irritation. He was behaving like a complete ass and she felt completely flustered and uneasy because of it! She tried to catch his eyes, but he, to her fury, refused to acknowledge her. 

Fuming she resumed her meal. The nerve of him! Only this morning he made it clear that she should leave him, no them, alone. And here he was, marking her as his territory, embarrassing her immensely in front of strangers. She muttered inaudibly under her breath, coaxing merry laughter from Glorfindel. 

He said softly to her: “Do not worry Rin. I have known him since he and his brother were mere naughty Elflings. His heated remark is telling for his own mental disposition at this moment, let it not trouble you. I, for one, greatly enjoy our conversation. So dear friend, shall we meet tomorrow for a sparring session? I am curious to your abilities with that stunning blade.” he nodded towards her katana that stood leaning against her chair. 

He added: “And it would be fun to tease young Master Elladan a bit, do you think?” 

She laughed, agreeing with him thoroughly. It would be definitely worth her while to tease him a bit! And she bit in a ripe fig, savouring the sweet taste on her tongue. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When at long last, dinner was finished, Glorfindel bowed to her, thanking her for a pleasant evening and promising her a training session in the training grounds the following morning. When he took his leave, she disappeared into the shadows with a sigh of relief. Pleasant as the evening had been, she felt relieved to be on her own again. 

The whole company retreated to a large hall where the only light was provided by a large fireplace. This was the very heart of Rivendell, a place of song and fire. Music filled the halls like champagne. Moving shadows and light shot up towards the ceiling, concealing the physical reality of the space she was in, emphasizing her focus only on the sound that filled it. There were many instruments unfamiliar, but the songs seemed to be of the story telling kind. And although she did not understand the words, they struck a chord deep within her and unnamed emotions surfaced. The songs seemed to build an imaginary world inside her mind consisting of a deep love, longing and regret for forgotten times. And she realised vaguely that this space and time held the very core of the Elves’ being. All their stories of love, fear, beauty and regret were remembered, to last forever in music. She sat silently in meditative pose in one of the corners, tucked away in the shadows, listening in awe, riding the waves of emotion with each song that passed. 

After a while, she noticed Elladan in a far corner of the hall, talking with important looking elves. She knew him well enough to notice his discomfort and agitation with his companions. Was it bad news they were sharing? Or was he irritated that he needed to discuss business at this hour? Glorfindel stood in between them, and to her dismay, his background slowly came back to her. Of course he was not just any Elf! He was one of the oldest and mightiest of Elf Lords left in Middle Earth! His easy manner during dinner had made her feel so at ease that it did not cross her mind who she was talking to so freely. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. 

A song was initiated that seemed an invitation for many Elves to sing. She heard the words Elbereth and Gilthoniel and she remembered the importance of that song for Elves. She marvelled at the beautiful melody that seemed to anchor itself in her memory, as if it had become part of her. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Elrond standing on the other side of the hall, his figure framed by the night’s sky through the large open doors. He turned his head towards her making eye contact while he beckoned her to follow him outside. Hesitantly she stood, was it her he beckoned? She then walked through the hall and followed him into the silent night. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Standing on a terrace watching out over a small river in the valley he said with a slow and deep voice: “Forgive my negligence, lady Rin, tending to my son made me ignore my duties as a host.” 

“I understand, sir.” 

“However, you are very welcome here, in the last Homely House.” 

She didn’t say anything but waited for him to continue. “My sons have expressed the hope that I would be able to help you.” 

She nodded silently, somehow dreading his answer. 

His wise eyes locked with her own and he said softly. “I have the gift of foresight, Rin. Many things that will come to pass are clear to my mind’s eye. But you, strangely enough, are hidden from my sight. Even now, standing in the heart of my realm, .”

She felt shocked when his sudden keen eyes seemed to pierce her heart. She felt naked in front of the knowledge that she saw there. 

“What does that mean?“ 

“To interpret what is within my sight is a dangerous task, that even the wisest fear to commence. Council is a fickle gift. But in your peculiar case, I will share my personal suspicions with you, for I suspect that you are simply not part of this world.”

She felt the hairs in her neck move, a cold chill erupted on her skin. Well. That information was eerily correct. Her mind came to a halt abruptly. In but a few moments, he had stripped her of all pretence and pointed out the foundations of her being and the nature of her existence in this world. Just like that. 

Looking into his grey eyes, that reminded her so much of the twins, she felt all resistance to keep the truth from him melt away. She told the twins a half truth, she was from Japan. Where Japan was located they never discussed. The twins did not ask and she did not volunteer the information. But in front of Elrond himself, she found herself unable to keep this from him. 

So she took a leap. “I am unable to refute your logic, sir. I come from a country called Japan which is situated on planet Earth. In my world, Middle Earth exists only in a book.” 

He looked taken aback. “A book?”

“Yes a book. It is a fictional story about the One Ring of Power. Well, I thought it was fictional any way. Your sons are in it as well, sir, although, if I remember correctly, they play a minor part.”

She saw his face falter for a few moments until he recollected himself. Although his features creased back into their timeless beauty she could see he was shocked. 

His deep voice seemed to slow down even more. “That ring was lost.”

“It will be found.” 

“These are ominous tidings, Rin, and it should not be discussed on the fringes of this merry company.” he stared towards the open doors towards the Hall of Fire. The soft music still floating through the night air. 

She nodded quietly, worried that she said too much. He smiled at her then, his warm voice filling the space between them, reassuring her. 

“Let us meet tomorrow in the sunlight and discuss this matter further. Sleep well and may your dreams be peaceful, you have nothing to fear in my realm. Nothing passes this valley but wind and starlight.” 

Without waiting for her answer, he turned with a swish from his robes, leaving her wondering if she made the right choice confessing her knowledge of Middle Earth. But she had to tell someone right? If not Elrond, who would she tell? 

She sighed. She felt bad somehow for not telling the twins, but she had no idea what their fate was in the story. She did know the general events about Frodo’s journey and the destruction of the ring, but she never focussed on Elladan and Elrohir in the story because their part was insignificant. And being honest to herself, she was so distracted about the fact that she was actually in their presence that she forgot about the knowledge she possessed of this world. 

A nervous stir erupted in her stomach. What if they got killed because she told them? And how could she know if Frodo was alive yet? It might be centuries before Frodo was born! She had no way of knowing, these Elves all looked age-less any way. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A soft sound broke her trail of thoughts. 

“What did he say?” 

The voice was dry, hissing along the stones that marked the border of the terrace, like the scales of a snake. She had trouble relating this voice to the emotional and jealous Elf Lord that sat at the banquet earlier that night. She turned around, arms crossed over her chest, her fingertips caressing the goose bumps on her skin. 

“Why do you care?” she said it with an edge to her voice, only now realising how angry she was with him. 

He seemed made out of shadows, eyes silver in the light of the stars. “Are you vexed?”

“No, I am not vexed. I am pissed off! What was that all about? Lord Glorfindel was just making conversation with me! Why did you think you can lecture him? You’ve showed the entire table that I am what exactly? Your possession?” She noticed that she was talking rapidly with raised voice.

She stepped closer to him, raising her chin to look up at him. “You!” and she prodded him with her fingers furiously. “You have not earned the right to regard me as your territory!” 

She growled at him, watching his jaw working, his teeth gripping his bottom lip, chewing on it. She continued. “First you explain what is bothering you and your brother! Wanting me and then pushing me away! And why you are taking this. Out. On. Me!” The last words she emphasized by hitting his chest with her fingers, pushing into him with force. 

He let her push him while he stared at her, eyes ablaze with fire, his nostrils flaring and jaw working. Suddenly she could feel him collecting his power like a blanket around him, wrapping himself in it, making himself grow beyond the reality of everyday life. She stepped back alerted, hairs on her neck and arms, raised. What was this tiger up to? She always imagined Elrohir to be the scary one, that it would be Elladan that would truly intimidate her, was a surprise. 

He grabbed her arm, pulling her into his chest with force and stared wildly into her eyes. She felt his power like a force pushing against her body, it was overwhelming. “You! Your mortal heart cannot understand! You must leave us be! I will not give him up!” And with that he kissed her on the lips, the force of the kiss thus, that it prevented their mouths to open. With a brusque gesture he pushed her away from her and walked off into the dark night, leaving her shaken and severely confused. 

After a while she stared into the night, her mind a torrent of feelings and emotions. Why did he keep pushing her away? Why did he kiss her? Was this a goodbye? It was as if he had a multiple personality! Shimatta! 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Slowly a smooth voice drifted towards her. “Are you alright, lady Rin?” It was Glorfindel and he seemed like a beacon in the night, his golden hair illuminated brightly by the moonlight, which seemed to shimmer throughout his body. 

“I just don’t understand him…..I don’t understand them!” 

He took her arm smiling. “Come, mellon nin, let me take you to your chambers. The hour grows late.” 

They walked in silence. His presence was strangely comforting. When they reached the familiar door, he looked at her seriously. “Elves may seem familiar to mortals, Rin, but they are very different. Connections and bonds are perceived in a very different way. The sons of Elrond have a strong bond and your arrival seems to shake the very foundations of it.”

She blinked at his riddles about bonds and connections. Why was nobody just more direct in their communication! “Can you not tell me what is up with them? It is driving me insane!” she blurted out. 

Glorfindel smiled: “I can only tell you that the twins have been living in a precarious equilibrium, embracing their past trauma’s in a reckless way, that seems to keep them from fading. Your coming is like a spark that triggers a fire, causing a breach of that careful balance. And now the one brother is separated from his twin, whilst experiencing this unbalance. It is enough to make him unpredictable.” 

And with that he turned on his heels and took off in the night. She watched his retreating form, puzzled.


	11. Elrond sat in silence, his mind in...

Elrond sat in silence, his mind in disarray. He had not been subject to such conflicting emotions since his Celebrian departed Middle Earth. An Elf of his age was foremost a spectator of the world and where he could be such, a guardian and healer. But the years of abiding ran short for the Elves in Middle Earth, he could feel it; the Age of the Elves was nearing its closure. 

Still, he was vigilant, evermore watching the patterns around him, reading the myriad of possibilities, penetrating the veils of sight to search for things that moved unseen. And now, an event that had escaped his sight, an alien presence, had managed to enter his realm, forcing an unpleasant surprise on him, concerning his sons. Absently, he fingered the ring on his hand. Tonight, he felt wary, as if all the years he had walked Middle Earth suddenly pressed upon him in full force. 

For the tenth time that evening, he revisited the arrival of his wounded son and what he learned while working on the arrowhead that had planted itself solidly into his bone. Elrohir was rambling feverishly, displaying a deep fear of losing this girl. He had not thought his son capable of connecting to a stranger intimately within a mere few weeks.

And when Rin entered the healing ward, his sons doom emerged in his foresight, inevitable, for with his sharp perception he recognized not only the beginning of a bond between them, but between the girl and Elladan as well. Nor his sons, nor Rin, seemed in acceptance of the connection between them. Rin, being mortal would experience the bond less prominently. But his sons. His sons seemed to deliberately ignore the pull of their hearts. 

The display of affection had moved him greatly, even now, sitting in his study. He had given up hope that his sons would ever embrace love after centuries of denying it. Tears burned behind his eyes when he thought of the pain that his sons buried deep within them. 

Staring into the living flames he sighed, for there was much to be troubled about. Even though he could see the possible and most likely conclusion of the things set in motion, the path towards that fulfilment was not clear as if shrouded in shadows. 

A bond forming would be a thing to rejoice in, but this involved his sons and nothing went easy with them. And now chance had bound them both to the same mortal. And therefore, despite the joy he felt, he already mourned his sons, for the doom of their passing was certain now, whatever fate they chose. 

Being Half-Elven, he passed his burden of the choice onto his sons: they could choose mortality over immortality if they wished it, shortening their suffering when the girl would meet her death. Or they could live the youth of the Eldar if so they chose. But what was that choice, facing mortal love? When the girl passed, both his sons or one of them would fade from a broken heart. Either way, he would lose them all too soon. Or would their damaged fëa, hungry for revenge, fight this pull of love once again? He sighed at the possible outcome of that scenario.

During the past centuries, potential bonds had formed thrice with either Elrohir or Elladan, but they disconnected such bonds before they could damage their togetherness or come in the way of their revenge. They did it ruthlessly and without mercy. An act with great personal risk and an even greater risk for mental health of the concerned Elleth. 

Both occasions caused strong public opinions, after which they simply disappeared for some years, seemingly not caring, finding comfort only in each others company or roaming the wilderness with the Dúnedain. The Elleths in question, had suffered severely, but survived in the end, the premature disconnection their saving. 

His sons remained unscathed because of their bond and the importance of their revenge. It gave them the strength to fight against love against their own happiness. And so the strength that kept them sane when his wife passed and they went mad with grief, turned into a self destructive force when facing love. But they did not care, they had shut themselves of from love willingly, keeping their emotions simple and straightforward, finding consolation only with each other, shunning other Elves, living only for revenge. 

He could still see them clearly in his mind’s eye. Their white faces, stern, devoid of emotion, when they announced their plans that bleak autumn day. He had no faith in their improbable rescue of their mother from a fate worse than death. They had proved him wrong. 

His old mind remembered, unable to hold the images of the memories abay. Their blazing eyes, the fight in the hallway, their harsh words towards their sister and himself. Enraged by their mothers capture, they rampaged on a suicide mission, leaving them unaware of their true intentions: to save her or die. They returned changed, their search for revenge consuming them.

His mind wandered again to Elrohir’s arrow wound. Even now, after all those centuries he was baffled by their recklessness and instinct for self destruction. The last time they left, they had not taken shields nor bows, claiming it was no ‘sport’ to be thus well armed. Worried and angry, he had send scouts after them, but as always, they had vanished in the wilderness and it would take a dozen of rangers to find them there. He was relieved that it had ended with an arrow shot in Elrohir’s shoulder. It could have been worse. 

The girl that had wormed her way into his sons’ hearts within just a few days, was a mystery. He could feel her presence behind his line of sight, but was unable to truly see her. And now the path of his sons was unclear, as if her presence cast a shadow on it. 

Her appearance, with delicate features, slanted eyes, ink black hair, high cheekbones, slightly toned skin, was alien to him. Her clothing was of an unnaturally even and smooth fabric of the highest quality, her sword of extraordinary craftsmanship. Her fighting style, as Elladan had reported to him, had no comparison in Middle Earth. 

And then there was the lantern, made of a material that was not from Middle Earth and which felt strange and cold to his hands. The mechanism unlike anything that he ever saw, not even the enemy could have made it. 

All these observations emphasized his deeply rooted suspicions that she could not be from Middle Earth. He had never encountered her kin. But he had sensed some of the light of the Valar in her. Could it be that the Valar chose to deliberately put this girl in the vicinity of his sons? Was she a Maia? The purpose of such an intervention of the Valar was unclear to him. He longed to discuss the matter with Mithrandir, who was travelling still. 

Apart from her connection to his sons, she seemed to possess valuable knowledge of the One Ring of Power. “It will be found”, those ominous words still echoed in his mind. 

A sharp knock on heavy wood sounded and Glorfindel entered his chambers with soft steps. The chill of the night air in his wake made the flames wiggle nervously in the hearth. His golden hair reflected their life. 

He poured himself a glass of wine and took the seat opposite of him, watching him over the rim with steady blue eyes. 

Elrond looked at him expectantly. “Well, mellon? What is your impression?” 

Glorfindel twirled the wine in his glass, staring at the fire through the lightly colored liquid.   
“Her mortal heart speaks to me, it harnesses a great pain inside as well as darkness. It is unclear to me if she knows of it herself. But despite the weaknesses of her mortal heart, she is a most charming and headstrong lady. And despite her darkness, I sense courage and honor in her as well, its light strong enough to blind the dark.” 

Elrond sighed. “She has captured the hearts of my sons in a mere few days. I fear however, that they are withstanding the bond that is forming. You have seen Elladan’s reaction during the banquet. He is pushing her away, with all his might.” 

Glorfindel took a sip of his wine, staring thoughtfully at Elrond. “I fear your judgement of your own kin is clouded by love and perhaps fear, mellon.” 

Elrond raised his eyebrow. 

“Elladan does not push her away out of fear for love itself, nor out of real jealousy. It is the fear of losing his beloved brother that scares him. Only this can explain the fierceness of this reaction.” 

“You think them fearing the choice of her mortal heart, that she chooses one over the other? Do they not realise that the bond is already formed between the three of them?” 

“You know as well as I do that monogamy is dominant in our ways. A bond between three is unheard of!” 

Elrond looked at him sharply. “Indeed, but it is not the first time they wandered off the beaten tracks. If they would be less stubborn, their eyes would open up for the truth and they could embrace it without this painful struggle.” 

“They might be blinded by fear. I tell you, mellon, they are afraid that this girl will be a wedge between them. They try desperately to be free of it, but they are drawn to her by a force stronger than fear.” 

“Elladan is not himself without Elrohir.”

“That is certain. He is emotionally unstable without his other half.” 

Elrond sighed again. Taking another sip of his wine. Staring into the fire, he disclosed the knowledge Rin held on the One Ring. “You are intimate with the workings of the enemy. What is your council, Glorfindel?” 

Glorfindel sighed, eyes closed. 

“My heart is troubled. We all thought it would be lost forever. This is grave news indeed and I fear this knowledge. Having foresight might let us astray from the paths that we are destined to take.” 

“Indeed, this is a precarious situation. Too much knowledge might let us astray. Still I think we need to know when it will resurface if it not has already. Or do you think me at fault?” 

Glorfindel nodded slowly. “Nay Elrond, I see the wisdom in that. Nevertheless, this knowledge must stay hidden. We cannot risk the enemy gaining advantage. Should we inform the White Council?” 

Elrond shook his head slowly. “Mithrandir feels wary of Saruman as of late. I will not ignore his instincts. Let us keep this secret until we can discuss the matter with the Grey Wizard and make sure the child is kept safe.” 

“Your sons will guard her with their lives.” 

“And take unnecessary risks with her!” 

“Still, we cannot keep her prisoner.” 

“Let us see how this develops before we decide.” 

“Very well, mellon. Let us watch and wait.” 

They fell silent. A sudden knock on the door alerted them. A calm Elf entered, in his wake a fully armed warrior, his helmet tucked underneath his arm.

“Lord Tessarion has returned my Lord Elrond.” The elf took his leave. 

The warrior was an Elf with a tall lean figure, brown hair matching brown eyes, a scar running from above his right eye socket, reaching his jawline. He was one of the High Elves of old, and a Lord in his own right, Captain of the Guard of Rivendell. 

He shook his long locks into order before he gazed at Elrond and Glorfindel. 

Elrond stood and grasped his arms in welcome. “Well met, my friend. Did you encounter much trouble?” 

“Nay Elrond, no more hardships than a regular patrol, though we have seen and heard things that have troubled us deeply.” 

Elrond frowned, he pulled up a chair and ushered him down, pouring a glass of wine. Tessarion took a sip, closing his eyes in bliss. 

“It is good to be home.” 

“What has troubled you, my friend? You are not easily troubled.” 

He looked from one to the other. “The orcs are more persistent. Even the Dunedain and their Rangers that venture south, are concerned. They seem to spawn from the Northern Mountains and beyond. A dark force is breathing them to life. It is a nameless force for now, but I fear it, for it feels like the dark of old.” 

“This is troublesome news, Tessarion. Your suspicions seems to hold truth, for I have seen the growing darkness. Are we still in control of the borderlands?” 

“Only barely. The Dunedain Rangers that venture south, aid us as well as they can, and our other allies are alert and carry ill news to us as soon as they encounter it.” 

Glorfindel sighed. “There goes my well deserved rest, Tessarion. You spoil this peaceful night with your ill tidings.” 

The others laughed at his quip. 

“I am looking for young and energetic Ellons, Glorfindel. I cannot imagine why you feel addressed personally?”

Glorfindel laughed, but Elrond looked thoughtful. “Very well, let us enlarge the Guard for the time being. I will leave the selection to your discretion.” 

“Very well, there are some I have in mind.” 

Glorfindel sighed dramatically. “I will take patrol in two weeks. My men need some time to get into shape again.” 

“I will leave in two days, let us double the patrol’s in the direct vicinity.” 

“My sons have returned home at last. They wish to depart swiftly. What is your council Tessarion?” 

“Let them travel East to monitor the enemies movements, it is most needed.” 

Then, the Elf gave a curt nod. “With your permission, I would like to bathe and rest now.” 

When they heard the door fall into the lock with a soft click. Glorfindel stared at Elrond. “There is change in the air. These tidings, feel like no mere coincidence knowing the one ring will be found.” 

Elrond frowned at his friend. “Tessarion feels it as well. He remembers Morgoth’s servant as we do. Let us discuss our strategy when Tessarion has rested.” 

“Rest? You know Tessarion. He will not rest, but drive his men insane with practice. He never rests.” He chuckled behind his glass. 

Elrond gave his friend a small smile. “Let us give attention to problems more close to home: let us hope my sons will learn to embrace love before it is too late. Let us hope they do not pass their self destruction onto this girl.” 

Glorfindel smiled. “Do not lose hope. I feel it is not mere chance that Rin happened upon their path. She is very capable to shake some sense into your sons. She cornered Elladan on the terrace in a very frightening manner this evening.” he laughed merrily, standing, to leave Elrond to his troubled thoughts. 

In the doorway he turned and said softly: “And I think your sons underestimate her, just as you do.” And then he closed the door softly behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was expecting Elladan to seek her out, after their fight, but he did not. Angry with herself, she kicked the bedpost in her room. She was sitting here, like a demure female, waiting for the guy to come and apologize. That was not like her at all! 

She felt trapped by Elrond’s kindness and their appointment for the next day. She hated not feeling free to leave or stay. At home, she would just pick up and leave for training or for her uncle’s cabin. 

Sighing she undressed and climbed into the soft bed, cursing Elladan to hell and back, wishing to be home. The soft blankets felt nice against her skin. 

Her dream started as something bright, too bright. It was a brightness that made her suspicious. And soon she fell into a familiar pace of the events that were normal in this particular dream. At first it was painless, soundless and emotionless. She saw her parents fall from a distance. She did not feel the knife that stabbed her over and over again, carving ugly lines in her back. She did not feel her broken arm, the broken jaw and cheekbones. She did not feel his breath hot in her neck. She did not hear his voice in her ear, the words long suppressed and forgotten.

But then she caught sight of a girl with ink black hair and a shock went through her, making her heart stop. They locked eyes and a flood of emotion coursed through her ripping her apart from the inside. 

She felt all the pain and agony of her little sister being raped on that couch, as if it were her own. She could not look away. Her beautiful face contorted in pain and desperation, her eyes searching hers for aid. But she could only stare while she was helplessly undergoing her own torture. 

So much pain. Blood seemed to obscure her eyesight and kept the details vague. Only those pain filled eyes seemed so bright that it hurt her eyes and cut through her soul. And then she saw her falling from the couch, a blur of ink black hair and blood. And she fell again. And again. Like a record with a scratch, she witnessed her little sister falling from that couch for eternity. 

She woke up screaming, soaked in sweat, clawing at her hair and sobbing. When she came to her senses she realised that it was a dream. She was in Rivendell, in her quarters. It was a dream. 

Still sobbing she hugged herself, the emotions clinging to her like a layer of dirty mud. Her sister’s face still burned behind her eyes. It happened so many years ago, but it felt as if it was yesterday. The guilt ate at her very soul. She failed her sister. 

With a start she realized that since she entered Middle Earth and slept in the vicinity of the twins she had been free of this nightmare. But it seemed that in her solitude, her past crept upon her as of old. It was a familiar pain, a welcome one, to ease her guilt. But it was never enough, there was not enough pain or suffering in her life to cleanse her of this guilt. 

When the pain eased somewhat, she dressed herself and walked outside. The sky had exploded into a mass of stars, there was no moon visible. Underneath the vast black dome sprinkled with stars, she sat on the ledge of the terrace, breathing in the cold night air. Slowly she calmed. 

The only remedy for this was an intense workout. She took off her sandals to start her power yoga flow on the cold stones. The cold air felt good on her overheated skin and she moved until her breath was ragged and sweat dripped from her face. She moved until she collapsed through her arms, her legs started trembling and she could not lift her arms any longer. Exhausted, she sat with her back against the stone wall, her senses numb, her brain turned off and she welcomed the black nothingness that took hold of her. 

The soft voice of Glorfindel woke her. She lifted her head bolt upright, blinking up, her hand automatically searching for her katana. 

His eyes were concerned but he smiled nevertheless. “Do not be startled, Rin. It is only I. I wandered along your chambers to see if you were awake. I did not expect to find you sleeping outside of them.” 

She blinked at him. “I could not sleep inside those walls and did some exercises outside. I must have fallen asleep afterwards.” She stood, her muscles sore. 

He nodded in understanding, although she recognized some hesitation underneath his acceptance. 

“Sometimes we need the free air and might of the night’s sky to put our minds at ease.” He stared at her. How odd was this. What had kept her thus awake and distracted that she felt obliged to do exercises outside in the middle of the night? The white circles of dried transpiration were still visible on her clothes and skin. What kind of trigger was needed for such harsh self discipline he wondered? Would Elladan’s rejection hurt her this much? Or was it linked to the darkness that he sensed inside her? 

They got distracted by the sun that was slowly rising, a dull greyish light illuminating the valley, highlighting shards of fog and droplets of moisture on the lands. Standing there, mesmerized, taking the sight before her in, she realized Glorfindel seemed just as mesmerized about the view as her. He must have seen this view a thousand times over already, but he was taking it in as if it was his first time. 

Noticing her gaze, he turned towards her and laughed loudly; a joyous clear sound. It lifted her spirits instantly and she could not help but to smile back at him. 

“Tuck away the discomforts of the night and get that magnificent blade, Rin. What was it called again? Katana?” 

Her smile turned into a grin. She couldn’t help it. Here was an Elf Lord, ancient and powerful, and he was willing to spar with her! She practically ran inside to get her katana. Maybe she could kick his ass! 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The training grounds looked crisp in the morning air. they were not the first, several elves were sparring already. Some of them eyed the pair curiously. She wondered how strange they must look, the shining tall figure of Glorfindel all white and golden and her own small form, her head barely touching his shoulder, dressed in black and indigo blue, her hair black as ink, her eyes dark, her skin slightly toned. 

In turn she stared at the elven warriors amazed, their movements seemed effortless, smooth, light and precise. Sometimes so fast that her eyes could not follow. She felt humbled by the sheer display of power, agility and grace. And then she faced her opponent. She swallowed heavily, trying to concentrated and not be distracted by his perfection. 

Emptying her mind, she stood poised, her katana tipped towards the ground, her knees slightly bent, her stance strong. She let a sense of calmth invade her mind while she tried to take in the sight of the radiating Elf lord before her without emotion, observing only. 

The crisp morning air seemed to enhance the shockingly bright details of him, the delicate creases around his eyes, his sharp but elegant chiseled features, his cornflower irises, his golden locks. He looked down on her, his stance echoing old medieval knight movies, his sword, of elaborate design with a blade curved ever so slightly, he held up straight, optically dividing his beautiful face in two. 

She charged without a sound, attacking with a familiar and comfortable set of movements. With satisfaction she noticed the surprise in his eyes, but he parried her without effort. Twirling she used her reverse grip in him, trying to creep underneath his defense, but he was quick and fluid as water. 

They fought for an hour, the first half hour she tried to surprise him with every technique she knew. The fight became more than a polite sword fight, when she tried her martial arts movements combined with her blade. The mixed techniques shocked him, but again, he was too quick, his movements graceful, his face impassive, a kick there, a cut here, advancing and retreating. 

In truth, she had not laid one blow on him. The sun was high in the sky, she was panting hard, bend in tiredness, her clothes soaking wet from perspiration and he looked as fresh as when they started. Glorfindel was amazing, fearsome, cunning, bold, agile, and just the best fighter she ever faced. True, his handsome features, distracted her constantly. His laughter was contagious and his movements mesmerizing to watch. 

She noticed that he was, in his own way, subtly learning her new ways of defending and attacking. And to her amazement she noticed that he had adopted some of her moves into his own fighting style already. 

Vaguely she noticed that they seemed to have an audience. A few Elves were attracted by her exotic fighting style and were now watching the fight with bright interest. They radiated joy, their clear voices chatting merrily. Sounds of teasing aimed at her companion, she could discern as well. 

Ignoring the attention, she felt sweat pouring down her back, her muscles overheated. To her satisfaction she saw his brow becoming moist as well. He seemed to enjoy the fight in his own reserved way, and in the end he even started to grin, showing perfect white teeth. 

When they collapsed on the soft grass panting, she laughed out loud. 

“You are like quicksilver! That was a fine fight!” 

“The pleasure was mine, dear Rin. Your style taught me humility and I have learned a great deal today from you. Which happens, considering my age, not very often. Quite remarkable and pleasurable I dare say.” 

“You learned from me? You have got to be kidding. You were untouchable!” she scoffed. 

“Then you have not payed attention. You surprised me many times. Your style is very refreshing.” 

A blush crept on her cheeks hearing such high praise from one of the best swordsman she ever encountered. Standing, he handed her a skin filled with water. The elves around them laughed out loud, calling to Glorfindel in clear voices. His answers were short and caused more laughter until they returned to their own sparring. 

Rin drank the cool liquid, feeling refreshed already, watching the retreating Elves mesmerized. What a diversity in looks, some dark, some blond or silver, their features differing greatly. But all amazingly beautiful and almost radiating light of sorts. She loved their contagious laughter and joy. 

Glorfindel spoke and caught her attention again: “How are you faring with your companions?” 

“I have not seen them since yesterday.” 

“All will be well Rin, in due time of course.” 

“You seem to know more than you let on.” 

“Perhaps.” 

“That is easily the most irritating answer I heard in years.” 

He laughed out loud. When he looked at her again he was smiling affectionately. “Such endearing ways of speech you employ. I feel my years pressing on me in the wake of such creative youthfulness.” And he laughed again, the sound travelling to her heart like a bubbling wine. 

She took another sip of water and then noticed a dark figure leaning against a tree in the shadow of the afternoon sun. Familiar dark hair framed a pale stern face. He wore a dark blue tunic that showed a strip of pale skin, dark pants that made his bare feet stand out. When the figure pushed free from the shadow she recognized Elrohir easily and her heart skipped a few beats. 

Underneath the opening in his tunic she could still see white bandages. Surprised at his appearance, she hesitated in reacting to his presence. She wanted to run to him and hug him, but what did he know? Was he aware of her fight with Elladan? Did he share his brother’s sentiments? Or was he oblivious?

He was walking slowly towards her, with the smooth grace of a panther. He was wearing his sword with a belt around his tunic, the harsh metal in contrast with the vulnerability of his bare feet. His braids were in place just like she remembered it and she vaguely wondered if they were done by his brother. 

He smiled at her ever so slightly and she felt her mood light up within mere seconds. She grinned back and as if it was an invitation, she bolted towards him and embraced him tightly. 

She felt rather than heard him chuckle, his hands encircling her waist. She breathed in his scent, so different than before, clean, crisp and sprinkled with herbs. 

She took some distance, her hands resting on his arms, to better see him. He looked a bit pale still, certainly in the morning light, but healthy nevertheless. 

“Up already?” 

“Elves heal quicker than humans.” came his cocky reply. 

She noticed other Elves watching them with interest and surprise. Elrohir ignored the stares, solemnly winking at her. Then his gaze fell on Glorfindel behind her and he nodded in greeting, a small hint of darkness in his voice. 

“I see you are testing the waters?” 

“If you call it that, then yes, I am.” Glorfindel sounded teasing. “I find them very….. satisfying.” 

His grey eyes slightly darkened by Glorfindel’s answer, he took in Rin’s sweating body. She feared that he would act in the same manner as his brother the night before, but he did not. Suddenly his eyes held a mischievous glint and he whispered: “Did you teach him a lesson?” 

“I am afraid he won.” 

“You disappoint me, war goddess. We must remedy your skills then?” 

“Are you inviting me for a spar?” she asked incredulously. “You are injured!” 

“Sparring will heal me faster, but for now I merely came to tell you that we are summoned to my father’s chambers.” 

She nodded in understanding. Taking one last sip of water, she collected her katana, strapping it to her back. Then she followed him towards a wide staircase up hill. 

Before she ascended, she turned towards Glorfindel and bowed to him. “Arigato gozaimasu, Glorfindel-sama.” 

He seemed to understand the meaning of her words instinctively and returned her bow with dignity. When he raised his head, his eyes twinkled. “It was my pleasure, dear Rin to fight you. I will see you in a while.” 

Elrohir waited until she started up the steps, before he turned as well, regarding the Elf Lord darkly, biting at him: “Do not tread this path, Slayer, for you have to answer to us.” 

Glorfindel stared at him, a dangerous light in his eyes and seemingly growing beyond measure in body and spirit. He said with a soft strained voice: “Her heart belongs to herself only, young one. Do not claim that which you fear, without permission.” 

And with those words, his sheathed his sword, and turned, leaving Elrohir at the bottom of the steps.


	12. She clutched a cup filled with some unknown…..

How does one keep calm while being interrogated by three ancient magical beings? Rin tried and failed miserably. She clutched a cup filled with some unknown herb tea, the warmth seeping into her fingers. It was a welcome feeling to distract her from her churning stomach, caused by Elrond’s questions and piercing eyes. 

Like the first time they met, there was no hiding from him - she felt naked, exposed and she inexplicably felt the need to confide in him. She would tell him where she came from and what she knew of this world, just like that. It was information that she had not shared with the twins and if felt like bitter treason to disclose it now to their father while they watched her like hawks from his sides.

She took another sip of tea. 

Elrond’s natural air of authority was intimidating, but he was friendly and quick to laugh. Underneath his merriment, he displayed the same uncanny ability to sense her emotions, as his sons. Effortlessly, he detected her reluctance when conversation turned to certain parts of her life, steering around difficult subjects with the ease of the very wise. She suspected that he gained far more information from her timid answers than she was actually expressing with words. Despite his friendliness and encouraging smiles, his old eyes pierced hers unrelentingly while he pressed on with his questions. 

The elaborately carved round wooden table, facilitated the twins who sat on either side of their father and herself, leaving one vacant seat. The afternoon sun filtered through the windows, enhancing the likeness between father and sons. And it was astounding. But their handsome faces were carefully expressionless as if they played a game of poker. 

Elrond’s questions became more serious, focussing on her background. She talked reluctantly about her life in Japan. The distance between her present reality and her old life had grown to such an extent that she almost could not imagine Earth as real any more. The words came with great difficulty and with disgust she faced the emptiness of that life. She searched for comfort from the twins, but their expressionless faces only made her feel lonely. 

“And tell me about your father and mother, Rin. Are they both from Japan originally?”

She hesitated, what was he after? What had her parents to do with anything? 

His old eyes guessed the cause of her confusion immediately. “Forgive me for asking such .. intimate… questions, Rin. But your arrival in Middle Earth might be connected with your heritage.” 

She nodded in understanding. “My mother was Japanese and my father was part Japanese and part British actually. I was brought up speaking English or Westron as you call it, but Japanese as well.” 

Elrond cocked his head to the side only slightly. “So you were brought up with a mixed heritage?” 

“Yes, my British heritage made me in the eyes of some Japanese, too individualistic and too direct in my communication. In England, my appearance stands out. I am a product of two very different cultures.”

“Do you have siblings?”

She swallowed, her throat dry. She glanced at the twins, but they seemed like statues, silent and distant. She could not do this. Taking a deep breath she stated: “Please Lord Elrond, they died. My little sister, my father and mother. I do not want to talk about the dead.” 

The twins shifted, frowns marring their features in concern. Suddenly, she lamented the fact that she had not told them earlier. And now she had shared this very intimate information in the presence of their father instead of within the private comfortable intimacy of their togetherness. Why had she not confided in them? 

The twins in turn seemed at a loss for words, struggling to react. They were shocked for they knew instantly that this was the root of the darkness inside of her. Her whole family dead. They knew how much it cost her to speak of it in the presence of themselves and their father. 

Suddenly Rin felt a warm hand touch hers tentatively underneath the table. First just the fingers and then soon the hand wrapped around hers firmly, squeezing lightly. Elladan, for it was his hand, smiled at her ever so slightly and she felt the warmth of his hand entering her heart. 

Elladan said hesitantly: “Forgive us, Rin. It must cause you great pain. We will not pry further.”

She smiled at him, a vulnerable smile that was born out of bravery instead of honesty.

Soon, the conversation steered towards the ring, which was a welcome distraction from the dark pit of pain inside of her. But it brought on a severe dilemma. 

After much deliberation, Elrond first shared his knowledge on the history of the ring to refresh her memory. Using a large map of Middle Earth in the middle of the table he navigated through his memories. 

She stared at the paper image of the world that she found herself in. It seemed different from maps that she remembered from the books, the style differed greatly and it was more elaborately embellished. Subtly, her survival mechanism took over and she tried to memorize every detail of the near surroundings. Trying to decipher the route she travelled with the twins and ultimately trace it back towards the spot she must have shown up. She could trace it back only so far and all too soon Elrond’s voice and his words captured her attention as if it were a magic spell. 

The stories unfolded before her mind’s eye as if it was a movie, she could not influence the cause of events, nor close herself off of it. Beautiful landscapes, horrifying enemies and life defying actions surged through her until the ring had fallen into the river and travelled past all knowledge or memory. 

Elrond recalling events that happened centuries past, out of his own experiences and memories, felt incredibly strange. Rationally, she knew Elves to be old, but their youthful, or better said, timeless appearance fooled her again and again. 

But now she sensed all his many years acutely, an experience making her feel like a child. Eying the twins, the incredible age difference between them descended upon her anew. 

Elrond’s story ended and she woke as if from a dream. Finally, she understood where she was in the books, the ring had yet to be found. But she still had no clue how to proceed. 

“Can I not just tell you everything that I know?” 

Elrond’s long fingers stroked his dark hair in contemplation, his elbow resting on the table. He was in thought for a long time while his sons waited patiently. 

After awhile he said slowly: “There is a danger in knowing things that yet may be. Foresight is dangerous as a guide for deeds. A foreseen path might not come to pass because those that hold the knowledge of foresight, chose another path to prevent it.” 

She blinked in confusion. It seemed logical. A silence fell at the table. In the distance a bell sounded for the noon meal. And as if on cue, an Elf arrived with lunch for five. In the Elf’s wake, Glorfindel made his entrance, smiling radiantly at her, taking her hand kissing it after which he nodded towards the twins. Elladan inclined his head in respect mumbling in Elvish to him. She wished it was an apology, but could not be certain.

Elrond spoke quick but extensively to Glorfindel in Elvish. The tall Elf listened silently interrupting Elrond with questions only twice. When their conversation seemed done, Elrond explained: “Forgive our Elvish, Rin. I needed to make sure Lord Glorfindel did not miss any information on the topic. There are not many Elves in Middle Earth of old, but Lord Glorfindel is one of them and his knowledge and council is imperative in this discussion.” 

“Elrond, mellon, I will only participate in this discussion if you refrain from the title of Lord, it makes me feel too old and dignified. We are amongst friends here. Let us be informal.” 

“As you wish.” 

He smiled at Rin, his dazzling radiant smile, and she could not help but blush and smile back. The sunlight caressed his golden locks from the open window behind him, giving him an angelic look. Sitting so close to him in daylight she was mesmerized by the details of his face, the finely chiseled facial features, his sharp nose, high cheekbones, thin lips and sharp eyebrows. His cornflower blue eyes seemed to radiate light, making the blue almost unnatural. His skin was smooth, only subtle fine lines etched along his eyes and the corners of his mouth, complementing his features instead of making him look older. How could a being be alive for such a long time and still look so good? 

With a start she realised she was staring at him. She could almost feel the twins’ irritation growing and a quick glance told her they were jealous again. Instead of being irritated she felt flattered by it this time. “Forgive me for staring please. It is just… I know that you all are old. But I cannot understand how it can be possible that your bodies look so well after so many years.” 

Elladan’s features softened somewhat at her explanation for staring and he said: “We seem similar to mortals Rin, but we are very different beings, physical but also spiritually. When we reach adulthood, our appearance changes ever so slowly. It is not a process that a mortal can notice, since it is such a lengthy process. But you are right, you seem like a child to us, while for a mortal you are an adult already.”

“At what age do Elves reach adulthood?” 

“Our physical form reaches adulthood when we are fifty years of age. But only when we reach hundred years, we are to be called an adult.” 

She blinked. A hundred years old? She was only 27 years! How must they see her then, as an underage Elf? Was this the reason for their reluctance into admitting their attraction to her? She felt a blush reaching her cheeks and could not look them in the eyes. 

“I am twenty-seven years old.” 

She chanced a look at the twins. Elrohir stared at her with a strange look in his eyes that she could not decipher. Then he said with a sly smile: “I am two thousand, eight hundred and two years old.” She gaped. 

Elladan said calmly: “I think you mean and three, brother. And do not fear that we think you a child, Rin. As said, mortals are very different beings, and you are considered an adult in the mortal world. We have treated you as such, have we not?” 

She tried to wrap her mind around their age, but it was impossible. Almost three thousand years old? And she was only twenty seven! How could they treat her with so much respect when she lacked experience and knowledge to an insane degree compared to them? Their fight in the forest when they questioned her judgement of a dangerous situation on her own, made more sense now. 

Thankfully lunch was a good distraction. The food was simple. Some freshly baked heavy bread, dried fruit, nuts, cheese, honey and clear refreshing water. They ate in silence and when the first taste hit her tongue she realised that she had been starving. After some time, the conversation returned to the ring.

“What to decide now on this precarious matter? Too much knowledge and the right path might be taken off track, by our own folly. But how can we be certain that Rin’s arrival here and the intervention in the things that have come to pass isn’t imperative to this turn of events?” It was Elladan that spoke thoughtfully. 

Glorfindel cocked his head to the side. “Rin, does the story of the ring has a positive ending?” 

“What do you mean by positive?” 

Elrond smiled. “You are asking a legitimate and wise question, dear Rin. Indeed, what is positive. I think we can all agree that the ring cannot fall into the wrong hands. It is my belief that Middle Earth can only survive when it is destroyed in the fires that made it.” 

She sighed in relief for this answer. “Then, yes, it has a positive ending.” 

Elrond leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, letting out a long breath. When he opened his eyes again he said gravely: “I trust this knowledge will not, in any form, leave this room”. 

He stared at all of them for several seconds in their eyes, his face grave, eyes level, a frown on his forehead. When he was satisfied, he spoke: “We must take a leap now, a leap in the dark. We have no way to be certain which path to take.” 

They all fell silent. Then Glorfindel said: “I feel that the arrival of Rin in Middle Earth has some kind of purpose other than to capture the hearts of young Ellons.” He glanced at the twins over the rim of his wine glass, eyes twinkling. 

Rin felt the blush hit her cheeks instantly. She did not dare look at her companions at the table. She dreaded the reaction of the twins and their father for that matter. 

“Watch your tongue, slayer. Do not taunt us.” Elrohir growled. 

“Leave me my small pleasures, elflings.” His eyes held mirth and he took another sip of his wine. But then his face grew serious. “Let us put petty emotions aside and focus on the task at hand, for we have a duty to care for the well-being of this world. I feel that Rin’s presence is announcing a shift in a long-lived status quo. This is the beginning of the end for our kind.” He stared at Elrond. “You feel it too, mellon?” 

“Indeed. It has been pressing on my mind for some time now. We have grown weary. The age of Elves is coming to an end. We will have no part in this story, but we can monitor its process and see to it that evil will be conquered, after which our powers will diminish.” 

Elladan said irritably: “Our time in Middle Earth has not pressed on us yet, father. We have no interest in being passive onlookers. We will fight the enemy as long as we have breath.” 

Elrohir added: “But to understand the things that will come to pass, to monitor instead of act, we need some knowledge of how the ring will be found, so we can watch the signs around us with better precision.” He looked at Rin seriously, making her forget the earlier embarrassment. 

She swallowed. “What would you have me say?” 

“I believe my brother means, that we need to know who will find the ring or plays a crucial part in the events that will need to take place.” Elladan said. 

Elrond and Glorfindel shared a long look and then a moment of understanding seemed to pass between them. 

“Only a name linked closely to this realm, no mention of deeds would be best, Rin” Elrond added. 

She hesitated. She would step onto a path that could not be undone. The Elves around her watched her like birds of prey. Or was it her imagination? A faint surge of panic started in her chest. 

Then she became aware of Elrohir underneath the table. He was not touching her exactly, but she could feel him shifting his leg to be alongside hers. She could feel his body heat. When she glanced at him, he gave her a serious look, nodding almost invisibly. She felt courage flooding her veins and took a deep breath letting all characters flip through her mind. 

“There is one that is supposed to reside in Rivendell. His name is Aragorn and he is of noble blood.” She held her breath, expecting something dreadful to happen, but she was only met with silence. 

Then Elrond said softly: “There is no such mortal living in Rivendell by that name. We seem to be ahead of events.” 

Elrohir added: “His name sounds Northern, but is unknown to me.” 

Elladan looked questioningly: “Do you know his father’s name?” 

“All I remember is that he is a Ranger from the North, his father has a name that sounds the same.” 

The brothers shared a look, but did not react. What did they know? They did not share and she did not press them. 

She realised that she was ahead of events. Aragorn might not be born yet. Suddenly she felt a cold sweat erupting from her skin. That meant that Elrond was still part of the White Council, trusting Saruman. He should be warned! 

“I must warn you, Lord Elrond, about another. We seem to be ahead of events, I am not sure how far. This means that you have important knowledge that must not be disclosed to the Enemy. You cannot trust one in particular.” 

The four Elves looked startled. They were alert and sitting inhumanly still, bodies poised. It reminded her of dogs when they listened, as if they turned on an extra sense. She blurted out without giving it any more thought. “Saruman, do not tell Saruman of this! He will betray you all.” 

Glorfindel leaned back in his chair baffled, the twins gasped in surprise, Elrond just stared at her, leaning on the table. Then after refraining to show emotion of any kind he closed his eyes, leaning backwards in his chair, tension leaving his body. When he opened them he looked at her and smiled. “Thank you Rin, for your sharing your insight. Long has Saruman been an ally, but Mithrandir has been suspicious as of late. His suspicions can now be taken seriously.” 

He smiled again. “This is enough for now Rin. I think the name of this Aragorn will gain us an advantage. We will be alert for such an event. I believe Middle Earth to be in your debt, for possibly the greatest trial of the Third Age will now come at least announced for those who know how to read the signs. I wish for you to linger a few more days in Rivendell before you make other plans with my sons.” 

He looked at them sharply, even as the twins’ faces darkened at his words. “I need time to let the information seep into my mind. It is possible that I will be in need of more information coming days. I wish to call upon you, may the need arise.”

She nodded in agreement and they all stood as one. They walked slowly into the crisp outside air. She felt relieved that this part of her visit to Rivendell was over. And now what? 

She stole a quick glance at the twins. They were disturbed, talking rapidly with their father in hushed voices, not sparing a glance at her. Elrond had already bid her goodbye. 

Being ignored by the twins hurt and angered her. She sighed deeply and then decided that she had enough of them for now. Without wasting words on them, she turned to leave. 

Glorfindel stopped her. 

“Rin, there is somebody that I would like you to meet this afternoon. Will you walk with me?” 

She looked at him puzzled. Somebody to meet? She nodded and followed him, filled with curiosity. 

He led her back to the training grounds, where Elves were still sparring with each other. They waited patiently, watching the fighters, until after a while, one Elf stopped fighting, greeted his opponent and sheathed his sword while wiping his brow with the sleeve of his tunic. He nodded at Glorfindel, his eyes flicked momentarily to Rin and then he started to walk towards them. 

His hair was brown with a chestnut hue, and like all Elves it was braided in style, showing a fair oval face with dark eyebrows and chocolate brown eyes. A large scar ran from his forehead over his right eye socket towards his chin. His tunic was of a coarse-looking natural looking material, underneath he wore brown pants tucked into easy boots, worn down from many travels. 

He approached them with a polite smile on his face, watching from one to the other. He bowed at them both in greeting. “My Lord Glorfindel, Lady Rin, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Tessarion and I am the Captain of the Guard of Rivendell.” 

She could not help but smile at him and bowed in turn. “It is nice to meet you, Captain Tessarion. I am surprised you know of me.” 

“Of course I know about the Lady that almost bested Lord Glorfindel with her sword! It is because of this, I requested a meeting with you.” 

She felt herself flush and did not dare look into his eyes after receiving such a compliment. She looked at Glorfindel for support. He nodded ever so slightly. 

Facing him despite her burning cheeks she said: “I think you overestimate my capabilities gravely! And those of my opponent! But how can I be of service, Captain Tessarion?” 

“I have watched your fight this morning and was surprised by your skill. I have not seen the likes of your style in Middle Earth. Allow me to invite you for a trial period serving in the Guard under my lead? You would honor me and my men to share your skill and expertise in defense of this realm.” 

She vaguely noticed some Elves ceasing their fights, listening in and she blushed even further at his high praise. She felt like she was filled with bubbly champagne. What an honor this was! Suddenly a myriad of possibilities was laid bare for her in Middle Earth. In Japan her sword was no means to make a living, but here! Here she could use her skill for killing to aid others, to protect something dear. It felt unbelievable. 

Still she hesitated, thinking of the twins. She wanted to make peace with them and make plans with them. But at this moment, Tessarion’s offer seemed a nice distraction from their fight, it opened possibilities. A way to be less dependent on them. 

But suddenly she felt apprehensive. This was no mere trip with the twins. This was a group of seasoned warriors that took its responsibilities very seriously. Was she ready for such a commitment? She had not felt nor wanted any responsibility in life. Not after her sister died. That part of her was long gone, she felt incapable of responsibility. She would pretend, like she always did. Pretend to be normal. Pretend to be whole. She would blend in, follow their lead and kill when they ordered her.

A sliver of doubt entered her brain: what if she lost herself to her bloodlust? She was not sure if she could close the door that she opened with the twins. It was a strange idea that her new found purpose and acceptance of herself, should be hidden from others. She felt accepted and encouraged by the twins, but she knew it was not normal behaviour. Kami, those twins were not normal! Would she be able to hide in plain sight from the Guard? She was not certain. 

Tessarion seemed to sense her hesitance. “Forgive me for my straightforwardness My Lady. It is a quality that causes me trouble often in this realm, but I seem to be unable to rectify my ways. Alas! My peers think me an Elfling asking these direct questions!” He smiled mockingly, causing her to laugh. 

“And are you? An Elfling?” 

“Nay, My Lady. I fear not. Only my character is to blame.” he winked at her. 

From the corner of her eye she saw Glorfindel rolling his, towards the sky. 

“Well, Tessarion, do not apologize, I find it refreshing to meet an Elf that asks blunt questions. You surprised me that is all. I would like to ride with you a few times to experience those duties, under your tutelage. I cannot make promises that I will partake indefinitely. You must have heard, that I arrived with friends here and I do not know what the future entails.” 

“Indeed, we have heard the brothers accompanying you to Rivendell. Their companionship can be fickle and their ways uncertain.” He grinned at her. “But this is more than I hoped for, My Lady. It will be my pleasure to guide you. Lord Glorfindel will show you to your horse. We will leave tomorrow evening under cover of the moonless night.” 

“A horse!” she could not help but grin. “And I am no Lady. Please call me Rin.” 

He nodded at her, tasting her name in his mouth. “Rin…” 

She bowed. “Thank you for the invitation, Taichou-sama.” 

“Taichou-sama?” 

“Honourable Captain.” 

His smile disappeared and he inclined his head with dignity, accepting her respect. And Rin realized that despite his youthful appearance and joking manner, this was a highly skilled and experienced warrior, leader of many loyal Elves. She should not underestimate him in any way. 

While walking towards the stables, Glorfindel supported her suspicion. “Do not underestimate Lord Tessarion, Rin. His loose manner hides his skills as a leader and a warrior. He is one of the High Elves that reside here in this realm. He is a harsh teacher, have no doubt. But you will be in capable hands nevertheless while being on patrol.” 

In the stables a beautiful black horse stood waiting for her patiently it seemed. Its large eyes with long lashes taking her in quietly. In amazement she put her hand on its neck, feeling the life flowing through its veins. A deep feeling of joy took her and she grinned towards Glorfindel, who smiled broadly back at her. 

“His name is Bethril. Isn’t he magnificent?” 

She nodded breathlessly. 

“Bethril?” 

“It means trampler.” 

“That sounds promising.” 

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at her. Then he calmly explained to her how to saddle him and care for him after riding.

“Lord Tessarion asked the stable master to supply the saddlebags with the necessary.” 

She blinked at him and then checked the saddlebags. She saw dried food, means to make fire, medical herbs, a needle and bandages, a small pan, and a knife. She nodded appreciatively. 

“He has ordered some addition to your attire as well, to protect against wounds and aid you in hunting. Those items will not be finished ere you depart tomorrow, since they take time in making. One of the guards is looking for protective clothing in the armory as we speak. He will find something for you to use for the time being.” 

She was distracted by the energy that she felt underneath her hand, when she touched its neck. Instantly, she was staring at the magnificent horse in awe, barely registering what Glorfindel said to her. Its energy, powerful stature and attentive attitude, made her feel confident that they would get along just fine. She caressed its neck lovingly, whispering soft encouraging words in Japanese. Glorfindel stared at the interaction fascinated, his blue eyes twinkling with curiosity.

At last he cleared his throat. “Well, are you ready?” 

“Ready?” 

“To go for a ride?” 

She nodded with vigour. Happiness was bubbling up inside of her at the prospect of riding this horse together with Glorfindel. And if she was honest with herself, it would be very helpful indeed to have an experienced rider teach her how to take care of her new companion. She could retain freedom with this knowledge and she was eager to absorb all that he knew. 

When they rode out of Rivendell, the wind catching her hair, she felt liberated, her fight with Elladan soon receding to the back of her mind. There was only the sun and wind in her face, the warmth of Bethril between her legs, the cadence of his movements that alerted her body into an adrenaline induced state. 

She could not explain it, but she felt a connection with this animal. A connection that she did not feel with Mitroch nor with Suldal. The horse seemed to sense her mood or thoughts even. It made her feel calm and accepting and she let herself be rocked and moved by the horse, enjoying the loss of control. 

She had thought it necessary to direct him, but she noticed soon that Bethril had other ideas on the route to take. Giving him controlled freedom, he returned the favor by being attuned to her wishes and even sharing them. Soon she felt that a subtle movement or hint was sufficient to made Bethril pelting downhill at thundering speed, or slow down in an easy trot. The connection made her feel excited and high on adrenaline. 

Glorfindel noticed her progress and connection with the beast with great interest. He had not known what to expect from this mortal. She fascinated him to no end. Their spar had been an exhilaration to his ancient mind. He found her refreshing and unlike any mortal he encountered. She proved to be resourceful, inventive, strong, fearless and intelligent. That she would be a natural rider fit in the image that he had built of her in his mind. But to see the bond of horse and rider growing in front of his eyes was almost unbelievable. But the evidence was there. 

Absently he stroked Asfaloth, who shot him a suspicious glance by rolling his eyes. Glorfindel sighed. Rin’s encounter with the twins was not mere chance. Every minute he spent with her, he felt more certain that she had a purpose here. If only the twins stopped being stubborn, ceased to let themselves be haunted by fear and guilt. 

Rin was not aware of Glorfindel’s musings. She felt on top of the world. And soon the rest of the day was spend in happy chatter, the wind in their hair, the horses energetic, the sun hidden behind clouds now and then. Glorfindel, she noticed, taught her subtly, a great deal more than she expected. How to sit, how to dry Bethril’s skin, how to feel his energy, how to talk with him. She felt greatly disappointed when the stables came into sight once more. 

“Thank you for lending me this horse.” She said, while staring up at Bethril, her legs still wobbly from the afternoon ride. 

Behind her Glorfindel sounded confused. “Lend? I did not lend it to you. Consider this a gift. A gift for one that has managed to surprise me.” 

She turned around to look at him. 

He smiled. “‘Not an easy feat.” The subtle lines around his eyes crinkled as his eyes twinkled in merriment. 

She gaped at him, the message not quite sinking in. A gift? “I… I don’t know what to say?” 

“Do not say anything. Just enjoy Bethril’s company when you have it. I dare say you have gained a companion and protector for life.” 

Without thinking she approached him and hugged him tightly. “Arigatou gozaimasu, Glorfindel-sama.” She felt her throat constricting, but managed to keep her eyes dry. She felt Glorfindel stiffen in surprise, not expecting her show of physical affection nor her Japanese words of thanks that he could not understand but could well guess at. After a slight pause, she felt his arms wrap around her, returning her hug. Inhaling his strong masculine scent that reminded her of the forests around Rivendell, she could not help but smile. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Reluctant she followed Glorfindel back towards her quarters, where he stopped to say goodbye. 

“Glorfindel?” 

He watched her steadily, waiting for her to continue. 

“Yes, dear Rin?” 

“Are you my friend?’

“I aspire to be so.” he smiled. 

“Thank you for lightening my mood when I need it most.” 

He frowned. “It is such action that is required of a friend, is it not? It is no trouble and my pleasure to lighten your mood, as you call it. But let me tell you as a friend, do not let the twins bother you. No matter what happens, these are all necessary and sometimes painful steps towards towards a better understanding. Just bear with it a little longer and do not let your heart be troubled.” And with that he left her to her thoughts.


	13. She was not hungry that evening and she did not …...

She was not hungry that evening and she did not go to the great hall. Spending the afternoon on horseback had made her forget her anger. But alone in her quarters, it invaded her mind slowly but surely, consuming her rational thoughts. Being alone in a confined space was of no help and restlessly she paced back and forth in search of comfort and distraction. 

She wanted to confront the twins, but how should she proceed? Stubbornly, she shook her head. Let them go to hell with their issues! Why should she confront them anyway? They were the ones behaving like idiots! 

Grumbling she threw on her hoodie and katana and walked in the direction of the stables. Horses at least did not have a secret agenda nor could they talk. She would find some peace and quiet in the company of Bethril. 

She took a deep breath, entering the stables softly. The warm, round smell of straw and the penetrating sharpness of horse dung entered her nose and lungs. It was an invigorating combination and somehow a deep feeling of peace washed over her. The warmth of the animals warmed the space around her and she felt happy anticipation while approaching her new friend. 

The horse stood peacefully in one corner, near Asfaloth. She imagined to see recognition in the horse’s eyes and she stroked its nuzzle fondly. The horse sniffed softly and pushed its head into her hand. She smiled. “Yeah, I know, I am glad to see you too…” 

A sound alerted her to a familiar presence behind her. Turning, she slowly faced Mithroch and Suldal. The horses both had their heads turned sideways, so one eye faced her, giving her the eerie feeling that they knew full well who she was. 

She approached them tentatively. Holding out her hands in invitation. Both horses turned instantly towards her outstretched hands and she felt their breath on them. She let them take in her scent and then, somehow, found herself caressing their heads, holding hers between them, feeling their warmth and strength on her skin. They seemed happy to see her. It felt good to reconnect to them, she had missed their presence. She had not realised that the horses were such a distinct part of her journey here and that they were more than just a means of travel. 

Holding her head against Suldal’s, she noticed something lying in the straw beneath its feet. Curious she inspected it and found to her surprise one of the wooden wolf clasps from their mantles. She picked it up, cupping it in her hand. 

The clasp made of wood, held no monetary value. Its worth lay in its symbolic meaning, since it embodied the identity of the twins and the bond between them. She felt her heart beating somewhat faster. She could not imagine them without it. 

Making up her mind, she stroked Bethril one last time as goodbye and walked in the direction of the twins’ quarters in the upper levels of the complex that was Rivendell. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

The moonlight filtered through a haze of tiny clouds. She knocked softly on the large wooden door, staring at the two wolves, while holding one in her hand. When she heard nothing she softly entered. The room was empty. She tiptoed further, closing the door behind her with a soft click. She lay the clasp reverently on the large table and wanted to leave unseen. A glimpse of their bedchamber distracted her and she approached hesitantly. Were they asleep? 

When her gaze hit the bed, she gasped softly. There, on the bed they were, their skin pale in the moonlight, their hair dark following the curves of the white sheets like ink. They lay naked, Elrohir on his side, with his head on Elladan’s upper arm, his own arm firmly wrapped around his brothers stomach, his arm almost grazing the tip of his member that lay soft on his stomach. 

To her surprise, their guard seemed to be dropped within the safe boundaries of their home, since they did not seem alerted by her presence. Or were they used to her presence? Elrohir looked peaceful, bandages still wrapped around his shoulder, his lean back and full ass were plain for her to see and very naked as well. She felt her heartbeat pick up pace at the sight of them; painfully beautiful and unbelievably sexy. Their intimacy seemed to go beyond boundaries between siblings, forbidden - and this dark edginess, made heat pool in her stomach. 

She did not know how long she stared at them there, leaning in the door frame, wondering how far their intimacy actually went. Her blush intensified by her own train of thought.

But maybe they were more aware of their surroundings than she thought, since Elrohir slowly woke. Yawning, he grasped his brother even stronger. Feeling the warmth of the body in his arms, he smiled, lifting his head, whispering in his brother’s ear, waking him up ever so gently. 

Elladan smiled, his eyes fluttering. She saw his member twitching on his stomach. Her eyes were glued to the spectacle before her, her heart beating wildly, heat in her groin and she felt herself becoming wet. 

And then Elladan’ eyes darted towards her. She gasped in embarrassment, turning to flee the room, but Elrohir’s strong voice kept her there, stuck in the doorway: “Good evening to you, Rin.” 

She slowly turned around, making eye contact felt a painful task that she barely managed. But instead of showing irritation or embarrassment, they were calm and seemingly oblivious.

Horrified that they might think she had been deliberately spying on them and catching them in such an intimate moment in their own house, she said with flaming cheeks: “I came to return something of yours, your wooden wolf clasp that I found in the stables. I knocked, but did not hear a sound so I let myself in to return it. Before I left, I got … distracted….” Silently she cursed herself. Here she was, in an awkward position feeling embarrassed, while she had wanted to ignore them and let them come to her to apologise. All because of that idiotic clasp and her stupid kindness to return it. 

Elrohir nodded in understanding. He sat up slowly, pulling a sheet over himself, all the while staring at her. It was just like his reaction to her in the lake in the forest, he teased her openly and deliberately and it did not help her burning cheeks. Then he grinned suddenly, with his neat white teeth flashing. 

Elladan was at a loss for words at first, but he recollected himself quickly. In truth, he was glad to see her here in their private chambers, even though she had been witness to a most intimate part of his relationship with his twin. He had wanted to apologise for his behaviour at the banquet. Now she stood here in the privacy of their home in the presence of himself and his brother. He noticed the quickening of her breath, her flushed cheeks. He had seen her embarrassed so many times, and this was not it. There was a slight difference now. He concluded that she must be aroused. Seeing him naked with Elrohir had aroused her and he liked that they could have that effect on her. Quickly he shoved these distracting thoughts towards the back of his mind. 

He said softly: “Rin, I am truly sorry for my harsh words yesterday. I had no right to lay the claims that I did, or act the way I did. I was not in my right mind.” 

All emberrassement disappeared instantly, she felt angry, but not so much that it controlled her emotions. His apology did not make her feel better. What did he expect, that all was forgiven by just saying the right words? Also, it felt as an inappropriate moment to be having this conversation, considering the scene she just witnessed and considering their state of nakedness. But her curiosity took over, for his words puzzled her: “Not in your right mind?” 

“I feel distressed without my brother and I took it out on you, and on Lord Glorfindel. For that I am truly sorry Rin. I did not want to hurt your feelings, nor embarrass you in front of strangers.” He stared at her. “Please forgive my foolishness, my Lady?” 

“Do not call me a Lady! And you did hurt me and you did embarrass me. I think your brother’s absence was no excuse.”

It was not the reaction he expected. He blinked at her harsh words. She was satisfied by his confusion. That will teach him some control and empathy! Only when she felt he was punished enough, she smiled at him. 

“Still, I forgive you. I was also distressed with your brother being injured.”

His smile followed quickly in the wake of her words. And it felt to her, like the sun after a day of rain. Her radiated warmth, light, brightness and happiness. Bloody Elves… 

She approached him tentatively, until she could feel the warmth of his body through her clothes. He looked up at her. Their difference in height brought their faces close. On impulse, she wrapped her arms around him and to her relief she felt him mimicking her. 

After a while, sinking into the wonderful feeling of being held, the warmth of his twin behind her enveloped her as well. And she felt truly at peace for the first time since her fight with Elladan at the baths. 

She murmured: “Do you still want me to stay away from you?” 

Their Elven hearing picked up her soft question easily. Elrohir sighed behind her. “What did you do now, brother?” 

Elladan stood abruptly at his brother’s words, pushing them both backwards. His face contorted by irritation, his voice gravelly: “Brother, you know this is unwise.” 

“But I cannot fight this!”

“And I will not lose you.” 

Rin stared at them confused and then irritation kicked in. She was so tired of their melodramatic shifts of mood that was akin to emotional blackmail - a continuous cycle of attracting and repelling. She was too tired to care any longer. Pushing them away, she walked towards the door. 

Turning, she said: “Let me know when you are ready to respect me and treat me like an equal. For now I am done with you.” 

The twins stopped arguing, staring at her. Elladan said: “We owe you an explanation Rin. But things are not easy to explain. I need to talk to my brother.” 

Elrohir grunted dismissively. “I am not in need of more conversation brother.” 

Elladan glared at him.

“But if it is your wish, I will oblige you.” 

She watched them dressing with quick hands. Elrohir a dark blue tunic with pants underneath, his brother grey pants and no shirt. Their hair hung loose around their faces, making them look softer somehow. Silvery eyes glanced at her and it was the last thing that she saw before she silently exited their quarters to find some peace of her own. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

The silence in their chambers was a relief for the brothers. Their attraction to the girl was getting more and more troublesome. They had been at ease together for centuries. Her presence distracted them from each other and their purpose of revenge. 

Elladan poured wine for his brother. Elrohir sat down on the daybed. It was almost invisible, the discomfort that his wound gave him, but his brother noticed it. He handed him a glass of wine, hand softly on his shoulder. “Does it hurt still?” 

“The skin is straining. What did you argue about with Rin last night? She seems very troubled..” 

“I urged her to stay away from us. I tried to be …. persuasive.” 

Elrohir sighed. “Do you think that path is still open for us, brother? This is not like the others in the past. It was not mere chance that put her in our path. She seems to fit in too neatly, as if she is a missing piece of a puzzle. You feel it as well brother.” 

“I feel it as a magnetic pull, it is present in my mind, always. I want her part of this, of us. It is a twisted feeling, selfish. I want to share our revenge with her, I want to make her lose her innocence and make her succumb to our needs. But I do not wish to embark on this journey alone. I will not lose you to this.” 

Elrohir stared at his brother, feeling emotions and a dark want choke him. He understood Elladan’s needs and fears all too well because they were his own. But he doubted if they could fight it, this time. Elladan was always the most cautious one, always thinking before acting. 

“This risk of fading from heart ache, is no different from other risks that we take! It is what makes us survive, we have walked the edge of this blade for centuries now. Why do you fear this uncertainty for we have known that we would lose each other in the end. It is folly to assume we will survive longer still. It will put an end to this painful existence.” 

“A bittersweet end then brother, for my hunger for blood has not lessened yet.”

Elrohir gave him a devilish smile. “Aye, we are not satisfied.” 

Elladan followed: “I want to pursue other hungers than love brother. I am not ready to risk giving that up. Not for anything nor anybody. Not for Rin.” 

“She can be part of it.” 

Elladan paced in exasperation through the room. “Part of it? No matter our urges, we are a monogamous beings and she is as well. She. Will. Choose!” 

Elrohir blinked, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach. His brother was right. A bond between three was a taboo that even he did not dare cross. But a sliver of doubt entered his mind. They had crossed so many boundaries. They were survivors and lived in their own way, apart from their people. They both felt a bond with the girl, so why deny the obvious. Why dread another outcome? Or was Elladan right? Was their doom inevitable? 

In the end, as always, there were no words necessary. Elladan stared at his brother, he knew the workings of his brain. He saw realisation dawn on him and he felt saddened by it. Could they still break free of this? Or was the bond too far gone? And why did they both feel it? This troubled him to no end. What if the Valar did have some hand in this and it was meant to be? 

“If this is our course to take, then it is lucky that Tessarion has invited her to the Guard.”

“He did what?” 

Elrohir shrugged. “You heard me brother.” 

“That slayer should stay out of our business. How can he decide this with Tessarion, without consulting us first?” Elladan slammed the table in anger. 

“Consult us? We have no rights to her, brother. You contradict yourself. She is free to do as she pleases. Even joining that old dog Tessarion if she feels like it. It will be advantageous for us, she will have enough distractions, to battle the side effects of what we plan to make her suffer.” 

They fell silent. No more words were needed. Both options were laid bare to them. They would try to be free of this bond, and if not, they would face their doom without further ado, for death would come for them either way. There never was a ship waiting for them, nor would they take any if forced.


	14. In the darkness of her chambers, Rin jerked up...

In the darkness of her chambers, Rin jerked up with a starling cry, staring wide-eyed into the dark room, not seeing, her body drenched in sweat, her heart thumping like mad in her ribcage. Clutching herself, she cried softly, brokenly, chanting the same words over and over again: “Nao, imouto, watashi wo yurushite*, Nao….. Nao.” 

xxxxxxxxxx

The twins sought her out in the dead of night. It seemed too important a discussion to postpone until morning. With soft bare feet they padded over cold flagstones, the chill of night not quite reaching them. 

They were dressed as Rin last saw them; Elladan in a dark blue tunic with pants. Elrohir only in pants, his chest bare. The starlight extracted all color from them and they seemed like a vision in black and white. 

They were intrigued when they noticed she was not sleeping but outside, dressed in her small loincloth that they remembered she called ‘panties’ and tight top, seemingly exercising. Her clothing left nothing to the imagination and the movements held an alien beauty that seemed very different from her sword fighting. It made their blood run quicker in their veins. Softly they advanced, not wanting to break her concentration, to watch her movements. 

She was unaware of their presence. Her movements were precise, concentrated, flowing. The exercises were a combination of leanness and extreme power and control. Soon however they noticed other things: her sickly pale face, her fatigue, her moving jaw, her shuttered features. They recognised this kind of state - she was exhausting herself, hurting herself to distract her mind, just as they liked doing themselves. She was breathing hard and softly chanting, the same sentence over and over again. Their Elven ears noticed that she bordered on hyperventilating, with eyes showing a little too much white. The only thing that seemed to hold her upright was her sheer force of will. 

Fascinated by the scene, the twins watched until she faltered and collapsed on all fours, face forward towards the stones. They rushed forward. Elladan peeled her off the floor and swept her into his arms in an instant. Elrohir scraped her sticky locks from her face with his fingers, exposing her slack face. Worry hit them, for she looked dangerously drained. 

“Rin, Rin, why did you do this to yourself?” Elladan whispered. 

She stared at him with empty eyes. She kept silent, closing her eyes. And then with the utmost effort she made to stand upright, but her legs felt like jelly and she collapsed through them as soon as her feet met the cold stone. Elrohir caught her again effortlessly, concern marring his features. 

“It was…. necessary….to calm my thoughts.” 

Elladan frowned. “What thoughts made you treat your body like this?” 

She sighed, and motioned towards the wall of the terrace until Elrohir set her down gently with her back leaning against it. 

He gave her a stern look. “Share these thoughts with us Rin.” 

She took a deep breath. “It is Nao, she haunts my sleep.” 

“Nao?” 

“My little sister. I cannot escape the pain of these dreams. I am trying not to feel pain.” 

She knew they had the same tendency to self-destruction as herself, they would understand. But still she felt awkward telling them. 

“It was only a nightmare.” Elladan tried to comfort her, but her face contorted in anger. 

“It is not a nightmare! It is real!” 

He looked taken aback but then she saw realisation start dawning on him, on them. She did tell them that her parents and sister died to her father. Did death find them in such a way that she felt haunted by it? 

She took a deep breath, the darkness creeping back upwards again, closing her mind in, as if in a tight box. She felt short of breath all of a sudden. 

“Is it linked to your scars?” 

She let out a trembling sigh, closing her eyes. This afternoon it had been so easy to think and wish that she had shared it with them when they were in the wilderness, together. But here now, facing them in real life, she hesitated.

“Please Rin, will it not ease your mind if we share your burden?” 

She took a deep breath and plunged into the deep darkness of her memories, her voice shaking. 

“Nao was my little sister. She was the light where I was the dark. She was all things I was not, radiantly beautiful, open, innocent, happy and positive, caring for others.” She paused collecting her thoughts but her voice cracked when she continued: “My parents’ death was quick and easy. Afterwards, the one who killed them did not hesitate to choose Nao. I can still see his dirty fingers clawing her hair, dragging her towards the living room. She was only 13.” 

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to speak. It felt as if the words were made of stone, only their weight made them leave her mouth. 

“He held a knife to her throat while raping her. She was crying, her eyes filled with terror and pain. I still see her beautiful face, his tongue defiling her skin, her eyes staring at me until they turned empty and I lost her. He was raping her still when he slit her throat. He discarded her body like a piece of thrash. I still see her falling from that couch, leaving only a trail of blood. Some part of me died there in that house.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut in agony, the image of Nao falling, repeating itself in her mind’s eye as if re-enforced by her words. 

“Did he rape you?” Elrohir’s voice sounded rough and gravelly, strained even. 

“I remember only the torture, torture for information that I did not have. They stripped me naked and cut up my back, kicked me until they thought I had died. But I did not die.” 

She opened her eyes to escape the image of her sister’s death and stared at Elladan’s grey ones, darkened by anger, inches from her face. “There is only humiliation and guilt in my memory, I feel no physical pain, nor fear, I hear no sounds. There is only Nao’s pain and her death by his filthy hands.” 

“They?” 

“Much later I learned it was a group of six. They slipped up while they slaughtered another family and so they were caught. The judge gave them a prison sentence of twenty years.” 

“Prison? Twenty years?” Elrohir stared at her incredulously. 

She gripped his arm in frustration. “It was not enough. I needed them dead. I still need them dead. I failed Nao. If only they chose me first, she would be alive. She died because of me!” 

“You have not killed them?” 

“Everything I was brought up with, my countries laws and my families beliefs, forbade me to kill them myself. I would have dishonoured my parents’ memory to give into the urge to play judge. I had to be content with the justice that was done by the law. When they received twenty years in prison instead of the death penalty, life as I knew it, lost its meaning for me. So I sold all our possessions, except for my father’s katana and tried to find distractions for my mind and my body. And I have been doing that ever since.” 

She fell silent. Elrohir stated softly, his breath tickling her ear, “This was why you hesitated when you had to kill that first orc.” 

She looked at him, her face bitter. “Yes, you are right. I have this craving for violence in me that I cannot rid myself off. I lust for blood, mainly their blood. I still want, no, need, to kill them for my sister’s suffering. Because she is stuck in time, there on that couch, falling from it. And I am the one that has to be watching.” 

They stared at her, but did not touch her. She could tell they were upset, the emotions almost palpable. The realisation that these two ancient beings cared, made her feel like nothing could touch her, nothing could hurt her. They understood, they understood every fibre of her. 

“So I know now that I was not only distracting my mind and body all those years. I have been waiting. Waiting for those twenty years to be finished. Waiting to get my revenge after all, the laws be damned. But coming here….” she didn’t finish her sentence. 

She felt the dark memories slowly receding, back towards that hidden place. The twins sensed it as well, but their eyes were still dark and angry. 

Elladan searched her eyes before he said in a stern voice: “It was not your fault.” 

She smiled at him then. “I know. But the guilt has become a part of me. I am broken.”

Elrohir said quietly: “You are not broken but changed. This is what happens to those that suffer your circumstances.” 

Elladan added with passion: “Do not fear your trauma or hunger for revenge. Conquer hurt with violence. Replace sorrow with pain. It will gain you purpose.”

She said quietly: “During our fights in the wild I did just that. Those fights gave me purpose. Travelling with you gave me purpose.” 

Elladan looked at his brother, gritting his teeth. It was the worst possible moment to share their resolve with her. But it needed to be done. 

Elrohir nodded grimly and then said with even voice: “Rin… we cannot take you into the wild with us any longer. You will have to find your way in Middle Earth on your own.” 

She felt the blood drain from her face, coldness grasped her heart. She opened her mouth but was unable to voice her thoughts. 

Elladan said firmly. “You are strong, Rin. We trust you to be alright. Our father will take care of you, you can stay in Rivendell as long as you deem necessary.”

“We heard Tessarion invited you to the Guard.” Elrohir added. “That might be a good occupation for someone of your skills. Accept his offer and protect this realm. It will suit you.” 

“But…” 

“But we have to travel soon, Rin. Our errand is too dangerous. The knowledge that you brought to this realm is perilous. We will travel towards the North. Tessarion brought tidings of a dark force that is gathering in the Northern Lands.” 

She stood straight. The twins mimicked her, their movements stealthy as if bracing for trouble. 

“I wish to come.” 

“You cannot.” 

“Shimatta! Do not shut me out! You know I can handle danger! That is just a lame excuse for something that you are not telling me!” she yelled it at their faces. They were silent, not wanting to tell her the truth.

“Why? You arrogant Elf Lords, you owe me an explanation! Don’t tell me you don’t feel this…. this… pull! It is unbearable!”

There. She said it out loud. For a split second, she felt fearful of their reaction. But she saw it in their eyes already. Their resolve in spite of the pull that they felt too. They would not change their minds. And she steeled her heart. 

“Fine. You wish to know. We have let this go too far already, Rin. You are mortal and we are of Elvenkind. This attraction cannot be acted upon. You must understand this. This cannot come to pass.” The lie rolled smoothly from Elladan’s tongue. Better for her not to know the truth. Elrohir gave him a sideways glance, but his face revealed nothing. 

She looked at them, standing serenely, their hair glistening the moonlight, staring at her, like Siamese cats. Staring at her hands she felt defeated. The weight of their age, and their heritage crushed her. Loving her would mean only a short happiness for them. Afterwards, they would fade from grief. 

But she knew she could not deny this feeling. And they felt it too. Still they were fighting it. And successfully apparently. Like small children, being stubborn, choosing the easy path, the path of ignoring their hearts, their urges, refusing to feel pain. Oh, how she understood their reasoning! So she clung to an emotion that would save her feelings. Save her from hurt: anger. It was a slow anger, cold, hidden underneath the surface. But she made sure to give them a glimpse of it. 

“Fine. I will not beg for your companionship, nor your friendship. Our ways part here.” Her voice felt like sandpaper in her throat. As if made of stone, she slowly started to turn, but Elladan grabbed her arm with force. 

“So, will you? Accept a place at the Guard?” he stared at her intently his eyes burning. 

Glaring at him, she bit back, “No….. No! Your right to that answer is forfeit! I owe you no explanations Elf Lord! My life is my own and I will not share it with you any longer.” 

She took them in, one at the time. Their finely chiseled features, their dark shiny hair, their silver eyes. She beheld them, their strength, their beauty, their fear - fear of her - and her heart wept in anger. 

Then she bowed, turned, and walked inside, closing the door softly behind her, leaving the twins unnerved. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They had expected many things, but not her seemingly cold indifference. Tears of anger and sorrow did not come. She did not cling to the last remaining connections by discussing her future with them. She shut them out more thoroughly then they had anticipated, and it did not sit well with them. Unease creeped up at them. 

Staring at her door, they felt awkward and guilty. Guilty for behaving in such an dishonourable way at such a bad time. Guilty for cutting all bonds with her when she was most vulnerable. And she, in turn, had repaid them with contained disdain and honour. An honourable polite anger, directed mainly at their misplaced possessiveness instead.

And it was pure possessiveness. With the finality of the door closing on them, they realised that they were possessive still. The idea of not knowing where she would go, if she would be safe, did not sit well with them. Would she accept Tessarion’s offer? Or was she going to stay within the safe boundaries of their fathers realm? Would she find understanding and companionship in Tessarion or Glorfindel?

And then the dreadful thought entered their minds simultaneously. What if she found love in their arms? They shared a dark look. Elrohir shook his head while gritting his teeth. They would have to bear it, this regret. They suffered worse. Angry he pulled Elladan with him. They would find some distraction that night, or they might ride out of Rivendell this night to leave all thoughts of her behind.


	15. Master Elrond, Lord of Imladris, was too old to …..

Master Elrond, Lord of Imladris, was too old to be in need of much sleep. So when his door swung open with force at sunrise, he was already awake, writing a letter in his study. Mildly surprised he noticed his sons, armed and dressed for travel, standing at his desk, staring down at him. Realising what their attire meant he sighed and with a heavy hand he carefully balanced his pen on top of the inkwell and leaned back to give them a slow and pointed stare. 

“We are leaving, Father.” 

“I see. And what of your young companion?” 

Elladan stiffened and looked irritated. “It is not of your concern, Father.” 

It was Elladan who spoke, but it was the haunted look in Elrohir’s eyes that he tried to hide from his piercing gaze, that made Elrond connect the absence of the young woman to their current hasty departure. 

“She is my concern, my son, for she is a guest here, and I am her host. And since you brought her to my doorstep, you are equally responsible for our guests well-being. Am I correct that you are leaving her?” 

His words held a double meaning, something that the twins realised as well. They shared a quick look. 

Elrohir shrugged but refused to meet his father’s eyes, while Elladan chose his words carefully, saying softly: “Yes, our ways have parted. We have chosen to remain free of these….. entanglements. She will find her way in Middle Earth without our aid. And for now she will partake in the Guard, where Tessarion will watch over her.” 

Elrond’s heart clenched in concern. This was not the first time his sons risked their health and that of another for selfish reasons. But never did they endanger a mortal girl. He felt his anger rise. 

“You might have doomed her! What were you thinking! She is mortal, there is no telling how she will react!” 

Elrohir seemed frozen at his father’s words, suddenly gripping his brothers arm. Elladan gritted his teeth, biting: “She is mortal, Father. She does not feel as we do. Do not meddle in our affairs.” 

“And how about your well-being? You try to hide it, but I can see the damage done to your fëa clearly, even if you blinded yourselves to it!” 

Elladan’s features became haunted, mirroring his brother’s. Elrond felt satisfied he was still able to read them correctly and get through to them. He saw their carefully built walls crack, if ever so slightly. 

“You are exaggerating, Father. There is no damage.” Elladan’s jaw clenched. 

“Then you have fooled yourselves for too many ages. You have corrupted yourselves and you cannot see the truth any longer.” 

He closed his eyes to their stubborn visages for a moment, regaining his composure. It was folly to try to dissuade them. He had tried so many times in the past. They were lost to him. He tried to see the outcome of the parts to play, but all was hidden from his sight. 

Evenly he said: “At least ride north. We need to gather information on this mortal called Aragorn of the Dunedain.” 

The brothers turned to leave: “We make our own plans father.” 

“When will you return?” 

“Some months. Maybe.” 

“You need to stop doing this. You cannot neglect your duties and responsibilities.” 

The sons stared at their father with pity. Elrohir said at last: “We see only one duty and one responsibility. Why do you neglect yours?” 

The door closed softly behind them, leaving Elrond to his troubled memories. The twins seemed to trigger his thoughts of his wife effortlessly, as well as his guilt. His guilt for letting her being kidnapped. His guilt for giving up hope where his sons never lost theirs until they found her. His guilt for being unable to help her. His guilt for letting her leave for the Havens without a fight. His guilt for not being able to help his sons, standing helpless, watching them turn inwards and away from their family, and from their duties in protecting his realm, only to pursue their revenge. It was an unending pursuit that would consume them in the end. 

Shaken, he noticed tears on his cheeks. He had long made peace with his wife’s departure. But a small part of him was still in mourning, still felt guilty and his sons knew how to hurt him with it. 

Burying his old heartache underneath centuries of adaptation and healing, his mind went out to the mortal girl. He would have to inform Glorfindel and Tessarion to keep an eye on her. He feared for her well-being, there was no telling how the forceful breach of a bond would hurt her and if his sons could truly weather their separation. His sons were out of his reach, but at least he could help this girl mend her fëa, if such hope existed still. 

Xxxxxxxx

Lord Tessarion was tending to his horse, when Elrond’s sons entered the stables early in the morning. They were dressed for a long journey, saddlebags filled with equipment for life in the wild. It was not uncommon that the brothers’s stay in their father’s realm was short lived. They would rather not face his foresight, nor his meddling into their affairs. But Elrohir’s wound was hardly healed and already they were eager to leave. It was unwise to travel the wild when still mending from injuries, although Tessarion knew that they would not be so irresponsible. But still it struck him as odd. What made them so hasty for departure? 

He arched an eyebrow at them. 

“You have just arrived in this sanctuary, my Lords. What makes you leave our peaceful premises so soon?” 

His slight teasing manner was ignored by both brothers. “It is not of your concern, Lord Tessarion.” 

Tessarion’s manner became more serious. “Not of my concern? Are you hiding the true purpose of your journey from the Captain of the Guard?”

“If my father wished you to know, he would have shared it with you.” 

Tessarion’s mind worked hard. It was strange behaviour. The twins seemed somewhat off, they moved with tension in their bodies, he could see it clearly. Their eyes seemed haunted. 

“And your father wishes for you to leave again without the aid of shield, bow and arrow? Was your injury not enough warning for you, Lord Elrohir?” 

“We have no use for those. The risk is part of this … game.” Elrohir stared dangerously at Tessarion. His eyes darker than usual with an edge to it. As if Tessarion’s words gave a welcome distraction, changing his tension into anger. 

Exasperated, Tessarion lifted his hands, only to let them fall to his sides again. “When will you learn how valuable you are to your father and to this realm!” 

Elladan, getting angry as well, bit back: “You can only see, as he does! You do not understand. We need this. And we have a responsibility that we take seriously.” 

Tessarion sighed. “Yes. Reckless behaviour, empty revenge. I have been on that road once. It is a dead end.” 

“It is the only road for us. If it is ending. So be it.” Elrohir said it softly, his anger turned inwards, lessening.

“And you are leaving your mortal companion? Does she know?” 

There was a slight shift in their demeanor. If he did not have Elven senses, he would have missed it. But it was there again, the tension and haunted looks at the mentioning of the girl. Tessarion dreaded the meaning of what he saw. He would ask Elrond later about his suspicions. 

“Do not act a fool, Captain. We know she rides with you tonight.” 

“That she will. I only wish to express my hopes, that you have not let her ignorant of your departure. It would crush her spirits.” 

Elladan shrugged forced, pretending an indifference that seemed completely fake. “She will find out.” 

Tessarion said softly. “Is that the way to treat your friend?” 

It happened in the blink of an eye. Elladan stood, panting, sword at Tessarion’s throat, staring into his face, inches apart, teeth bared. Tessarion did not even blink. He stared calmly into his eyes. Elladan hissed: “Do not speak that way of her! You do not know anything about our …… connection.”

Tessarion blinked at the outburst of the brother. This was uncalled for. His suspicions grew more heavy in his mind. “I will speak of her as I please, with the lady’s permission. She will be a member of my Guard soon and will have to answer to me.” 

Elladan released him with a push, huffing. Elrohir grunted: “And you will have to answer to us.” 

Tessarion frowned. “Is the lady your responsibility after your hurried departure? I think not. She is an independent warrior and not a possession.” 

Tessarion assessed them. He seemed to have overstepped some boundary, the wild anger was there in their eyes. He changed the subject. 

“My Lords, let us not quarrel over this. You know she is safe in my care. I wish only for your safety in the wild. For we have a joint responsibility of protecting the well-being of one of the few Elven strongholds in Middle Earth. The heirs of my Lord should use their power, skill and knowledge for the safekeeping of it. Will you not aid me in this purpose? We share after all the same Enemy. And the Enemy is gaining strength in the North as we speak.” 

The feeling of guilt that Tessarion’s words caused, angered the twins even more. Elrohir spat on the ground before his feet. “Do not speak of responsibility, Captain. It has been many centuries since you trained us. We are not in your service any longer. We will travel and hunt as we please.” 

Tessarion’s eyes turned darker, while his jaw set. “You still prove to be Elflings, in pursuit of short-lived pleasures, ignoring the larger patterns of power in this world. The evil powers and their small victims. Be gone then, if you savour your petty revenge over the care of this realm. Be gone since you do not care if others have to shoulder the responsibilities that you refuse to take on. Be gone and stay gone, pursue your demise. I care not.” 

He turned and left them in the stables, his heart troubled. It was never a good sign if they left so soon after arriving. His feet took him towards Elrond’s quarters. He knew that he would find his Lord is some mild distress at their departure. He sighed. It was always like this. When would this circle end? 

Xxxxxxxxx

“And you are leaving her in the care of Tessarion? Why, sweet Valar? This could be serious! And you are sending her towards the wilderness with the Guard, while her fëa might be torn?” Glorfindel was pacing in Elrond’s study, talking heatedly, worried about a possible negative outcome of events. 

“Mellon, calm down.” 

“I wish very much to calm down, Elrond. But you have robbed me of my calm by your rash decision making.” 

“Tessarion will take care of her.” 

“He will drag her through the mud and train her senseless, it is the only language that he knows! He will do so until her fëa breaks from the wound and then it will be too late!” 

“You see Tessarion only in that light, mellon? Your concern is clouding your thoughts. You have known him for many centuries, but I have known him longer still. He taught my sons since they were Elflings, just as you did. He has a gentle fëa, his nature is not one of violence, but he has embraced violence as a warrior, like we all have. He will not share this softer side readily with warriors like yourself. But he has it nevertheless. Tessarion will do anything in his power to aid in healing her. ” 

Glorfindel frowned. “If you are certain, Elrond. I do not agree, but I will trust your judgement.” 

There was a curt knock on the door behind them. After a steady ‘enter’ from Elrond, Tessarion walked through the door. His face spoke of concern, making Elrond and Glorfindel eager to hear what had made the Captain calling on them unannounced. 

Xxxxxxx

Rin was unaware of the departure of the twins, nor of the concern of her host, Lord Glorfindel and Lord Tessarion, the last who learnt about the broken bond between her and the twins, when he spoke to Elrond about his meeting with his sons in the stables. 

Glorfindel’s search of her whereabouts during the day, went unnoticed. And when she did not show up for the noon meal, nor for supper, it was clear that she had most likely remained in her apartment all day. It could mean that she was responding negatively to the broken bond as they feared, and they agreed that Tessarion would check on her, bringing her some food. He could decide then if she was fit to leave with the Guard. If this was not the case, Glorfindel would step in to help take care of her, while Tessarion left with the Guard patrol. 

Time ad no meaning to Rin. Fatigue both physically and mentally, made her body feel like a numb and empty shell. She lay behind closed curtains, her body feeling like a deadweight stuck to the mattress. 

Inside this numbness, her mind drifted without aim, until the chill of the approaching night forced her into consciousness. Becoming aware, she noticed her limbs were stiff and skin cold, caused by sleeping in only her panties on top of the blankets. She sat up slowly, staring without seeing. 

A curt knock on her door made her stand, fumbling with stiff fingers to put on her sports bra and racer back. The knock sounded again, more urgent. Grumbling, she walked with uncertain feet through the dark, towards the door, opening it. Tessarion faced her with a straight back, looking crisp and fresh, his hair glowing in the backlight of moon, in his hand a small tray of food and drink. 

For a moment she couldn’t recall the name of the elf standing before her. He smiled, looking like he was relieved. But why? She frowned, and then remembered - he was Tessarion, the captain of the Guard whom she met on the fields. 

He stiffened at the sight of her bare legs and arms, scraping his throat nervously, but quickly regained his composure. “My lady Rin, forgive me for intruding. But your presence at meals was missed and I feared that you would not wake in time to join my Guard. So I came to check on you.” He bowed his head slightly. 

She blinked at him, her mind barely processing his words nor their meaning. The events of earlier that night, hit her with a vengeance, ripping through her soul, shredding her very being. She gasped sharply, grasping the edge of the door, knuckles white. Parts of the events last night, invaded her mind’s eye forcefully and for a few moments she could only let it wash over her, eyes closed, head bent downwards. Tessarion stared at her, alarmed. Regaining her composure, while remembering her promise to join the Guard patrol, she said softly: “Give me three minutes.” 

He nodded, still concerned and puzzled, his sharp Elven eyes following the dance of her hips, while she moved back into the darkness of the apartment. He busied himself with putting the tray down on a small table in the hallway, when he noticed her well-formed behind, barely covered in clothing. His cheeks flushed. To his dismay he saw her stumble again and crash into the doorframe of the next room. Rushing to her side with inhuman speed he was just in time to catch her. 

Without hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms, his fingers touching her soft skin, her warmth pressed against him. He held her close, inhaling her scent. She smelled of sweat and tears and something distinctly her, some fragrant type of wood, almost like pine. Sweat covered her forehead, her eyes were puffy, dark circles emphasized the almost black of her irises. Holding her tight, he suddenly was overcome by a feeling of aggressive protectiveness that seemed completely out of place. 

Staggering inwardly, he felt it then. The small flutter of her mortal fëa, tentatively connecting with his immortal one. The feeling was subtle and he would have overlooked it, were it not for her closeness, emphasizing it. Shocked, he tightened his hold on her. This was not possible. The sons of Elrond…. He frowned, looking down on her. Elrond had been correct in his assumptions that his sons had disconnected their bond with her. It was true after all. A deep rage was building inside of him.

Rin’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “You can put me down now.” Her voice was brittle. Reluctantly he walked into her bedroom and released her next to her bed, his hands lingering on her skin. Then he stepped back. 

She turned to find her momohiki pants lying, like a pool of ink next to the bed. Bending down she unintentionally showed Tessarion yet another good look at her behind that made him feel faint. He was no stranger to the female body, but she seemed to have a strong effect on him that was puzzling. 

Concerned he noticed her standing up again, trying to put them on, but failing. Her knees seemed like jelly. 

Tessarion came to her rescue once again, aiding her in the darkness with stepping into the trunks and tied the straps of her pants. His hands were quick and soft, his Elven eyes sharp and focussed in the night. He kept silent, ignoring her embarrassment at her vulnerability. It was a strange intimate moment. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to regain her composure, but his body warmth distracted her. Taking a step back after he finished, he smiled softly at her. 

He quite enjoyed this fragile moment. He was a warrior and his world held no softtness. To his satisfaction she blushed delicately. Her noticed to his surprise that her vulnerability held an attraction for him, since it stood in sharp contrast with her urges, that he suspected to be highly violence driven. Her vulnerability seemed to be her true nature, suppressed by her darkened traumatised fëa. Elven senses could pick up the faint traces that strong life events left upon a fëa and hers stood out to him clearly. 

Rin felt conflicted about the intimacy. The pain of the break-up with the twins overshadowed all rational thought and her mind was a jumble of embarrassment, hurt and relief for the silent aid of this stern but kind Elven captain. She studied his features for a short moment, his eyes, his ageless skin, his brown eyelashes. She noticed she found him handsome, although Elves seemed never handsome, only beautiful, Tessarion had a rough edge that made the word handsome more befitting. 

The moment was gone and she averted her gaze, concentrating on her body. Every minute she used her muscles by standing up, fired up her metabolism and she felt her strength increasing. And after a short while she felt better. Strapping on her katana, she faced him, her gaze serious. “I am ready.” 

Gaining strength made her finally really notice him. He was dressed in a plain leather outfit, close fitted with silver mail that peeked from underneath. The metal was finely mazed, looking like priceless jewelry. The leather in contrast looked worn down, scratches from fighting all over, dark brown almost black stains, testimony of the gruesome position he held in the Guard. He carried two swords on one side of his hip, a bow and arrow on his back. His hair had warrior braids, one wide on top of his hair, running all the way down. Smaller ones on the side, meeting the larger one, half way. It freed his face and neck completely, giving him an interesting feral look with his scar standing out, reminding her of Viking warriors that she remembered from television shows. She had trouble averting her eyes and concentrate on his words. What was he saying? 

“No you are not. You need to eat. You have slept all day.” 

She let him pull her towards the small tray with food. Reluctantly she took a piece of bread, chewing on it. It felt like clay in her mouth, an alien substance without taste. She swallowed with force, quickly downing the drink that was standing next to it. 

He watched her intently. Then he grabbed two apples, presenting one to her and biting into another himself. Reluctantly she accepted, taking a small bite, staring at him, to see if he approved. She found herself mesmerized by his lips and white teeth sinking down into the lush apple. He was handsome, painfully handsome. But he was very different from the twins, she concluded. She liked his playful roguishness she recalled, although he wasn’t anything like that at the moment. 

“What happened to you Rin?” 

She bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. “I do not want to speak of it.” 

Her denial irritated him and he looked down at her sternly. “You wish to keep your own council, Rin, I have no choice but to respect that. But I carry responsibility over my Guard, so tell me if you are fit to ride with us?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He was amazed how quickly she regained her composure. He knew now, for certain what had transpired during the night, but he respected her silence on the topic. Inwardly he cursed Elrond’s sons for hurting this girl and he cursed their father for his reluctance to discipline his sons concerning these matters of their hearts. Or other matters, he thought grimly. 

How would this mortal girl cope with the forceful breach of their bond? Elrond had briefed him on his suspicions and fears concerning the relationship of their sons with this mortal girl, that seemed to hail from an unknown place. It was not the first time that the sons of Elrond bonded with an elleth, only to break the bond before it went too far. Their thirst for blood always outweighing love for another. They did not care for consequences.

But a bond with a mortal might be different. He had no experience with such matters, since a bond between a mortal and an Elf was rare, but he guessed that a mortal would have lesser effects from a bond that was broken. And he knew it was broken. Only a broken bond could give way to another connection between two fëa. 

He was concerned over the tentative beginnings of such a connection. It was premature of course. It could disappear just as easily, either forced or naturally, as he experienced in his long years with elleths. Time would tell if this connection would prove to be steady. But he felt apprehensive. A bond with a mortal would be something to fear. He could not choose mortality over his immortality like the twins could. She would wither and die within the blink of an eye. And he would be left with his own heartbreak for eternity. 

He willed his thoughts to quietness. It did not matter now where this connection would develop into, time was of no consequence for him. More important was that it could help her to cope with the current separation from the twins. He was glad that she would ride with his men, so he could keep an eye on her. He vowed to support her with her heartache where he could and suppress his attraction to her as much as he could. 

Suddenly she embraced him, mumbling into his ear, in her own tongue: “Arigatou gozaimasu, taichou-sama”. 

He could not help but smile at her impulsive disarming behaviour and he returned her gesture, bending down towards her and returning her hug. They stood like that for awhile arms around each other, reveling in the closeness of their warm embrace. He noticed his hands tracing soothing circles on her back for comfort and he marvelled at his own familiar behaviour with her. But the tension in her body lessening, that was important right now. Then she released him, staring into his eyes. He noticed the pale white of the window in her eyes, and then his own reflection. In the periphery of his vision, her white small teeth, the black eyelashes, her beautifully shaped lips. He lost himself for a few fleeting seconds. 

With effort he turned away and held the door for her. She followed him silently towards the stables. 

Before descending down the stairs, she turned to look at the terrace. No evidence of last night’s events could be seen. Feeling like a stranger to her own memories, she turned with regret and continued her descent, towards a new beginning.


	16. Walking from the fresh starlit dark ….

Walking from the fresh starlit dark into the stables felt like walking into a warm blanket: yellow light from lanterns seemed to intensify the warm round smell of animals, mixed with straw and hay. It was as busy as a beehive, full of Elves dressed in leather and partial metal protecting, laughing and talking while preparing their horses and checking their belongings. Tessarion's Guard patrol, Rin surmised. Nothing of the splendor she imagined a small Elf army to have, no silver armour or elaborately beautified weaponry. Everything she saw was practical, worn down from use, but of amazingly good quality, obviously lasting for many years.

Tessarion led her to the space in front of Bethril, who welcomed her with a nuzzle that made her feel instantly better. Tessarion ignored the horse and inspected her clothing and the strap of her katana by tugging on it harshly, testing its strength. He conjured up leather bracers, one for each forearm, one for each shin. And he pulled a leather tunic over her head that was slightly too big, but fastened it nevertheless. Tugging on the leather he nodded, satisfied.

While she pulled her hood from underneath the leather, he explained: "I have ordered these items specifically for your size, but they will not be finished in time. These will do for now. They do not make you invincible, but should provide some protection for knives and arrows. Now let me look at that sword you carry."

She gave it to him hesitantly. She did not like to surrender her katana to anyone. Tessarion seemed to notice her reluctance and took it reverently.

"You are vulnerable when you reach it on your back. It would be wise to carry it on your side."

She shrugged. "In my world I was never meant to be ambushed or engage in a real battle."

"I will leave it on your back for now, because it is your habit. It is unwise to change a habit on the eve of danger."

She wondered about his directive tone of voice. Frowning, she thought she would not allow him to change anything concerning her katana, unless she gave him permission. She shook her head in her mind, that was a battle for another time.

"Do not worry, taichou. I am accustomed to carry my katana on my side. I just did not bring my regular sageo and obi to carry it sideways. The one I wear now, is only for transporting the sword on my bicycle."

"Bicycle?"

"Forget it. Think of a horse." she smiled at him.

He rummaged around in a large container with leather items. Then tried to attach several leather straps to her katana until he found one that was satisfactory. He fastened it on her body, tugging and adjusting, and she felt relieved to have it on her side again. It felt more steady and the angle seemed just right to grab it quickly.

"Try it."

She pulled her katana in one fluid motion, swung it up high and when the blade descended Tessarion was already holding out his own sword, catching hers in mid-motion. 

The sound of metal on metal made heads turn in the stables.

She blinked. She had not seen him moving. He stared at her with a stern face.

"I will be the commander of your blade from now on Rin. I will not tolerate any disobedience while you are in the Guard. I will not risk lives due to disobedience. It is of the utmost importance to follow my orders. Do we have an understanding?"

She blinked again. She understood. This was not a randomly planned, careless and possible self-destructive hunt for orcs like she ventured on with the twins. Agreeing to accompany the Guard, meant being part of the first defence of Rivendell and while being part of it, she held the same purpose and responsibility as the warriors that surrounded her. If she did not follow, she might threaten their endeavours, with disastrous consequences for the safety of the warriors around her and Rivendell. She wondered if she could uphold this discipline that Tessarion was demanding of her. For a few days maybe, but permanently?

But she needed to try it nevertheless, she was in desperate need of distraction and purpose. So she accepted his command with a bow and he seemed satisfied.  
Suddenly from behind her, a familiar voice said: "Good evening Lord Tessarion, are you starting your usual harsh Guard routine already in the stables?"

Tessarion looked behind her to the Elf that could only be Glorfindel and frowned. "What are you insinuating, Lord Glorfindel? That I am overstepping the boundaries of decorum concerning our guest?"

Glorfindel stepped into the light of the nearest lantern, dressed in an indigo coloured tunic with loose grey pants underneath. He seemed to glow white, a strange contrast with the warm yellow light of the stables, his hair standing out like a beacon, his eyes, almost too bright to be real. He walked next to her side, watching only Tessarion without acknowledging her and she looked up at him curiously. What was he doing here? Was he accusing Tessarion of something ?

"I would not suggest anything of the sort, I merely wondered about your directive tone of voice just mere moments ago. You do remember our Lord's wishes on her well-being?"

Tessarion inclined his head, a flash of irritation in his eyes. "Of course."

Rin looked at Glorfindel curiously, wondering what they were talking about. Apparently, they both had talked with Elrond about her and decided that she would receive some special treatment for her own good. She immediately felt irked by it.

"I do not wish for special treatment in the Guard. If I am to find out if my place is with the Guard, I should be treated the same as the others."  
Both lords looked at her and then back at each other. A small invisible fight seemed to be fought out between them in silence, until Tessarion gave a curt nod and disappeared in between his men.

Glorfindel turned towards her, his face showing nothing, taking her hands in his. The dry warmth of his hands penetrated her skin. It felt pleasant and strange at the same time. He smiled at her and she was mesmerized by the flecks in his irises and golden eyelashes adorning his eyes like halos.

"I came to wish you all the best on your first patrol, Rin. How are you feeling?"

Those four words made her feel the impact of the break up with the twins for real. Emotions crashed into her and she felt her eyes water. She quickly glanced at Bethril, hoping the horse's calm eyes would help her out, but it was futile.

"They pushed me away, Glorfindel. I was unwanted", she felt one tear slipping from her eyes.

He grasped her hands more firmly. "I feared as much. How are you coping?"

"It hurts." She bit her lip.

Glorfindel stared at her intently, his blue eyes seemed to penetrate her very being. And then, to her utter surprise, he enveloped her into his arms. She stiffened for a moment but soon she held onto him for dear life. He smelled like grass in springtime. The tears came and she let them. And there in that far corner of the stables, unseen by any of the guard, she sobbed quietly in Glorfindel's arms. She sobbed until his tunic was wet from tears.

The Elf Lord held her with reverence. It had been many years since he had to comfort a female, let alone a mortal one. Their closeness caused him to sense her fëa and to his surprise the damage of the broken bond was not as severe as he expected it to be. Frowning, he wondered if he had overestimated the depth of her connection to   
Elrond's sons. But his judgement was usually accurate, he mused. The only possible explanation for this would be that she had a mortal fëa, different from an Elven fëa. He felt relief wash over him. She would heal. That much was clear to him now.

After a while, Glorfindel stepped back to look at her face for a moment. Seeing that the worst was over he smiled at her. "There. That must feel better?"

"It does. Thank you… and sorry."

"Do not apologise, mellon nin. We are friends. I will be here to help you whenever you wish it."

She felt grateful and nodded at him. Then she crossed her arms, looking around hesitantly.

Glorfindel sensed her unease. "Is it wise to travel with strangers, while hurting so?"

She mulled over his words. "It will distract me. It will give me purpose. I need this, I think."

Glorfindel looked thoughtful. "And what of Elrond's sons?"

"What of them?"

He gave a small smile, his left corner tugging up ever so slightly. "Do you not wonder why they acted as they did?"

A world of knowledge seemed hidden behind his simple question, but she was too tired to pry it out of him. So she shrugged, pretending indifference that she did not feel. 

"I do not care what they think or feel. I am done with them."

Glorfindel's eyes kept lingering on hers, trying to find a hidden meaning behind her words, she imagined. When he could find none, he stared behind her at Bethril and said: "I understand, Rin."

She noticed Tessarion returning and heard Glorfindel raising his voice ever so slightly: "Be safe, Rin. Please follow Lord Tessarion's orders at all times."  
He took her hand again and pressed it firmly, his eyes leaving Bethril and penetrating hers with intent.

"I will."

He did not look at Tessarion when he said: "Take care of her, mellon?"

He let go of her hand to look at the Captain. Tessarion nodded at him with a small smile on his face. "You know I will."

He turned towards Rin, catching her eye one last time, muttering a melodious: "Namárië..." and left the stables.

Tessarion gave her a look that she could not decipher, but before she could say anything he had turned and barked several commands that turned the chaos in the stables into a well-oiled machine where everyone had his place. The teasing merry Elf that she had met on the training grounds made way for an army leader, his directive orders following each other in staccato. She was in awe of the instant authority he held over his Guard. Pondering on Glorfindel's unexpected but thoughtful farewell, she quickly saddled Bethril on her own, and soon they were thundering over the road.

They left Rivendell from another side of the valley over a wide grassy path alongside a quick river. Soon, they left its stream for higher land, thundering through the landscape. It seemed to be all for the benefit of the horses, who were eager to stretch their stiff stable legs. The energy of the animals was contagious and soon Rin found herself laughing out loud, forgetting for a few moments, the painful memories of the twins in her heart.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Travelling north was not an easy venture. Two horses with riders, clad in dark colours, trod over small paths through dense thickets in an old empty riverbed. A mist hovered over the landscape, floating just above the thicket, bringing moisture and coldness that seeped into the riders' clothes. Branches with thorns caught cloth, long ferns entangled horse legs until they snapped loose, rocks were inconveniently scattered along the trails, causing hesitation, some cursing and then rethinking travelling by horse.

The sons of Elrond were silent, lost in their thoughts. Normally it was a healing silence - if one could call it a silence, for the sounds of nature were all around. Every step from Imladris was a step back into a simple existence. The comfortable company of each other, the life in the wild that kept their bodies and minds alert and full of energy, the hunt for death, the thirst for revenge.

Time had a different pace for Elves compared to mortals. The pace of life in nature; the endless cycles of the moon and stars, the water tides, the seasons, birth and rebirth, all seemed to reflect that. But this time, they found themselves counting steps, counting time, making the minutes stretch out longer. It started off with a feeling of unease, restlessness. But in the silence around and between them, they slowly realised that they were counting, experiencing time and space differently, almost like a mortal. And it was a mortal that was the cause of it.

Every step and minute took them away from their resolve, from her, from their short-lived moments together, and a haunting feeling overtook them slowly but surely.

They hoped for some kind of healing in the wild, but it seemed to magnify their wounded fëas instead, confronting them with the fact that they did her wrong. That they were scared. That it hurt to be apart from her.

Finally the path became wider, and sloped up higher. Elladan came to ride alongside his brother. Elrohir gave a faint smile, bending over to grasp his hand, pressing it for a short while. "This might take some time. Do not worry."

Elladan nodded gratefully, finding comfort in his words and would find something to hunt to distract them from their mess of thoughts and feelings. Killing orcs would resolve everything.

xxxxxxx

Rin's days with the Guard consisted mainly of scouting the area over vast distances. Unlike her expectations, they did not ride close to each other in formation, but would often spread out into smaller groups, only reuniting at nightfall.

Enemies were not encountered, nor sought out. She had the distinct feeling that this company used their supernatural sense of their surroundings to evade any possible threat or confrontation. She dreaded the ongoing evasion of their enemies. She craved a fight if only to forget for a short while the things that were haunting her. Still, there was no confrontation and she could not detect the same sentiment and eagerness in her companions.

The Guard was a company of spies rather than killers or soldiers, she mused. She knew they were gathering intelligence during their travels, but their contacts eluded Rin. 

Many invisible spies seemed to communicate with the Elves and only the obvious ones were visible for her mortal eyes, like wandering Elves and sometimes men, dressed in worn down clothes, the color of the landscape. The Elves seemed to be in connection with a world that was just beyond her line of vision, forever out of reach.

It made her very alert. It would be dangerous for her if she could not sense this world underneath her scope of vision. If she were to survive and outsmart supernatural beings, she needed to see beyond her own reality. So she stayed silent and studied them intently and as often as she could.

Xxxxxx

The heart of the Guard was Tessarion. She had time now to study him. Glorfindel had been right that day on the training grounds, the easy-going exterior fooled those who did not pay attention. Underneath that pleasant straightforwardness was a strong, capable leader.

He dashed back and forth between the groups of Elves, talking, asking questions, teasing, or just listening to his warriors with attention. He was approachable, equal almost, but she was not fooled. He just knew how to steer his Elves into the direction that he wanted, while his methods remained hidden underneath his pleasantry. She saw him do it constantly, switching his conversation style to the one facing him, thus masterfully controlling the mental well-being of his warriors, their motivation and their confidence. And his warriors loved them for it.

In between his energetic endeavours, he took the time to get to know her better and put her at ease while riding. And he made her laugh, for which she was grateful.

During their conversations in the daytime, she discovered a tender and gentle side to him, that was instigated by his apparent suspicions that she was not in the best of moods. She suspected he had seen her breakdown in Glorfindel's arms or was informed by either the latter or Elrond himself.

Behind the teasing and laughing, he was thoughtful of her feelings, inquiring about her mood and genuinely tried to make her feel at ease with him and the Guard, which she really appreciated. He reminded her of Elladan in these moments, his calm questions about her home, her interests, her feelings. But he was far gone and it served no purpose to compare Tessarion to him.

As for the warriors, they were interesting. Some she recognized from the training grounds. Some she did not. The Elves were curious and merry, frequently asking questions and teasing her relentlessly on her mortality. But after a while, she noticed that they could suddenly revert to a seriousness that befitted their age.

There were no other female warriors in the group. She recalled the twins mentioning that there were very few female elves who wanted to choose the life of a wandering warrior. It seemed to be a quality that attracted them in her. She hurriedly pushed the thought away. Not that it helped much anyway. She made a mental note to ask Tessarion about it.

The downside of travelling with a small army of Elves was the fact that they reminded her of the twins constantly. Of course Elves differed from each other like humans differed. And none of them resembled the twins in looks or character. But they all held the same ethereal beauty. They held the same grace of movement, inhuman strength, skills and knowledge. Every small recognition seemed to trigger things in her head and the twins and their rejection of her, would invade her mind in full force, the pain unbearable.

She knew about pain. She knew how to ignore it, or distract it or even suppress it. She had dealt with pain in her life and survived. But this deep hurt seemed sharp and new. It felt as if her heart was being expertly spooned out with a sharpened ice scoop, leaving only the bare necessities to survive.

To her great relief, the Elves around her seemed ignorant of her weaker moments. Moments where the hurt would wash over her in waves that drowned her. Angrily, she shook her head as if to clear her mind of these dark thoughts. That chapter on the twins was closed. She wanted to be done with them. But how could she stop them from haunting her mind?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Every day, after patrolling, the fragmented company would reunite and Tessarion would bark orders, effectively turning chaos into efficiency. Tasks were automatically divided: hunting, setting up camp, making fire or sharing intelligence with Tessarion. She noticed that they halted more for the well-being of their animals than out of tiredness themselves. Like the twins, these Elves seemed in need of little sleep.

Setting up camp was an event swiftly followed by daily training, with no exceptions she soon learned. Tessarion relentlessly pushed them all into action, motivating them with his sharp straightforward humor, even after especially long and hard days. But no matter how easygoing he seemed, his control over his Guard was strong, the respect of his warriors, she sensed, was unwavering.

She wondered about the wisdom of pushing tired and hungry warriors to train at the end of the day before rest and food. When she asked Tessarion during one of their conversations he explained that this method kept his warriors on their toes, even in their most vulnerable moments. Not everyone agreed with this method Tessarion had remarked wryly, and she recalled Glorfindel's words about his 'harsh training routine'. Well. It was certainly harsh, she concluded, but not without purpose.

Rin followed his directions and trained with various members of the Guard. Depending on her partner, she would be better or inferior in technical skills, but it was certain that she lacked Elvish strength and stamina, for she would be the first to collapse of exhaustion.

Tessarion did not give any leeway for her being the only human amongst elves. Instead he assigned her to go with the hunt or prepare dinner with the others, even after these training sessions. The other Elves, she noticed, sometimes questioned his decisions concerning her. But he would not hear of it and treated her as if she was an Elf. 

She thought of the conversation back in the stables with Glorfindel and Tessarion and realised that the latter was respecting her wishes on the matter. She decided it was a sign of respect from him and she took it all without complaint, finishing any task that he threw at her.

When all was done, she would often lean exhausted against a tree, dozing off, until somebody woke her. Like the twins, they seemed to prefer starlight over moonlight for eating and resting, for they only woke her when the moon was gone and the sky was littered with thousands of flickering lights.

They kept the fire small, using it mainly for cooking the spoils of the hunt and for keeping her warm, since elves did not feel much of the cold. They would eat sparingly, mostly dried fruit, some meat and bread. On the first night she was unable to eat much, her belly being churned constantly by this feeling of hurt that never left her. The night sky was unlike anything she ever saw on earth, it never ceased to amaze her. In Japan there was always some light pollution, but here, absolute darkness ruled. The result was too magnificent to comprehend and she loved staring upwards, drowning in the infinity of space and starlight.

These moments came at a price though, since the thoughts on the twins would come quickly and there would be no distractions from it. Gritting her teeth she suffered in silence, staring upwards, ignoring the Elves around her, trying to maintain a mask of calm for them. Sitting there, staring into infinity she waited for sleep to claim her. The easier evenings were those where songs would sound, taking her mind while she stared up to the stars, onto journeys to a distant past, alien emotions singing through her body, making her laugh but more often cry, until sleep claimed her silently.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

One evening she lay next to the fire, staring into the darkness above her. Her body hurt from restraining her emotions, she felt dangerously tired, physically and mentally, but still she could not sleep. She knew she had to give in to her emotions for a while, or sheer exhaustion would make her useless to the patrol.  
She sat up, making eye contact with a blond elf whose name kept eluding her. He was on guard, sitting just within the small circle of light that the fire cast. She made a vague gesture to him towards some large boulders at the edge of the camp. He nodded silently as she quietly made her way there, relieved to be out of sight of everyone for a while.

The cold of the rock penetrated her pants and skin. The hardness made her feel more awake. She let out a long sigh and slowly let go of the restraint she held over her memories. And they came flooding back to her. Elrohir's calloused hands on her knee, his stubborn silences, his relish for competition. Elladan's kind smile, his wet eyelashes in the lake, his gentle and kind words, the burning kiss in the baths and his hidden sexual aggression. Butterflies filled her stomach. She remembered their teasing and their respect for her. The trust they gave her to be their equal. The attraction they felt towards her. The open gazes of lust and want. The sheer power, bloodlust and battle driven force of nature they harboured together and shared with her wholeheartedly. How she missed them still. The connection felt like an open wound. Her body shook emotion that she tried to choke down.

Suddenly a soft movement caught her eye. Tessarion moved silent as a cat around the boulders to sit beside her.

"What is ailing you, Rin?" Those four words seemed, as happened with Glorfindel, to unleash her emotion within one single strike and she broke down silently. Tessarion watched her silent tears. He did not make an effort to hold her or comfort her. He was just there, witnessing her pain, wordlessly supporting her with his presence.

When she came to herself he looked at her and said: "Tell me what they did, those wretched sons of my Lord."

"How do you know?"

"As captain, it is my business to know what is ailing my warriors." He said simply.

"They rejected my friendship."

"Friendship?"

She watched his wise eyes. Why was she trying to fool an ancient Elf Lord? The twins had shut her out multiple times while not sharing thoughts or feelings. And she was tired of their ways. She should be different.

"... love….." it was a difficult word. One that she did not quite believe herself… yet. But it was spoken now. No return was possible.

Tessarion's face hardened and he cursed softly in Elvish. Suspecting it was completely different from knowing it for certain.

"Those brothers and their wicked ways! You do not deserve your heart be trifled with in such a disrespectful way!" he said heatedly.

She dried her cheeks with the hem of her hoodie. "Do not be angry, taichou. What is done is done."

He stared at her, amazed. "How can you talk so? You are not familiar with our ways. Love is not some casual feeling for my kind. It is our most sacred bond and should be respected and cherished, not cast away so cruelly. They risked your life and sanity."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Severing a bond could cause a rip into one's fëa, Rin, with potential life-threatening consequences. They behaved recklessly, with a mortal on the receiving end of their rash decisions. It is unforgivable!"

"They chose their freedom and I can relate to that. I don't need them, taichou. It is good that it ended now. The pain will be short and severe, but it will pass, and we all will have our freedom." She shrugged.

He put his hand on her shoulder in worry. "If an Elf rejects a bond, the pain of separation is enough to drive his fëa to destruction. I worry for your fëa, Rin."

"I don't have a fëa!"

"Not an Elven one, but humans have one nevertheless."

"You mean a soul?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "Yes, a soul is a fëa in a certain sense. If the bond between Elves has progressed too far, the fëas get interlinked in such a way that separation or rejection could be lethal to both Elves."

"Well. I am still here and not dead yet. I will survive it seems."

He stared at her surprised at her stoic reply. She just might, he mused. She should not be able to function as she was up till now, removed so far from the brothers already. 

Humans obviously responded differently to a broken bond compared to elves.

Rin looked back to him with a small smile and on impulse, leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Arigatou gozaimasu, taichou-sama, for being angry on my behalf. Thank you for being my friend," she whispered as she rested her tired head on his shoulder. It was probably a total breach of decorum, Rin realised vaguely. He was her superior in rank and stature and in Japan rank and hierarchy was strictly adhered to. But somehow she felt a connection that made status seem insignificant all of a sudden.

Tessarion held his breath when he felt her head on his shoulder. For a moment he thought of correcting her, for he usually discouraged intimacy within the Guard while out on patrol. He had learnt the hard way how this could disrupt and compromise a warrior. His mind travelled back into old memories. It was many centuries ago, when the love of his life, Zeale, had been in his arms, bleeding to death on a small battlefield. But he could still smell his bloodsoaked knees and the earth beneath him, could still see the metal of the blade that stuck out of her chest. Her bloodied white hair, tangled with a strand caught in the corner of her mouth. He had lost his sanity for some time, endangering his companions.

But the dark memories were washed away by his feelings of protectiveness that seemed stronger in that moment for this small mortal leaning on him. He was attracted to her in spite of her mortality, he had to admit to himself, remembering the softness of her lips on his cheek. He felt the fëa connection humming with their close proximity, which told him that they were for at least a part compatible. She was beautiful, skilled and agile like a cat. He did not like her dark edges, she strayed within the twins influence for too long already, he thought. But he had hope that she would find the good path once more. And he would aid her where he was able to, hopefully without risking his heart and sanity in the process.


	17. The landscape opened up more and more….

The landscape opened up more and more, showing grassy plains with occasional boulders. Harsh winds blew from behind and Rin’s hair was swept up and downwards into her face, moving wildly, until she pulled up her hoodie, sick of the sharp points of hair prickling her cheeks. Her companions had no such trouble due to their warrior braids. She should consider taking braids as well, she mused. 

She imagined that the gusts of wind seemed to push them over the plains, having a mind of their own, steering them into an unknown venture. Having a free range of vision over the wide open lands, it became clear how far the other groups travelled during the day, for she could not see them. Dissolved in nature, it seemed. 

She was travelling with a group of four Elves, all silent dark haired warriors. They did not talk with her due to their lack of knowledge of Westron. She quite enjoyed the silence for now, being able to relax for a moment, without having to meet some expectations from others. One of the warriors, Raumo, she recalled, pointed from time to time towards animals or landscape marks. He was a kind Elf, always friendly and quiet, he smiled a lot at her and she made gestures to indicate that she was grateful for his remarks on her surroundings. 

After some time Tessarion appeared from the rear, accompanied by two of his elves. It was his habit to travel in between the groups and she looked forward to the breaking of this silence, for he would take the time to engage in conversation with her and provide valuable information. She would ask questions about the lands they were passing, as well as the lands that lay ahead and she absorbed his answers eagerly. Having memorised the maps in Elronds’ study, she silently combined her knowledge with the additional information that Tessarion provided. She became capable of keeping a very precise track on their movements through the landscape. 

She wondered if Tessarion realised how precise she could be and tried to keep her knowledge to herself. She knew exactly where and how to ride to get back to Rivendell, and how to trace back her journey with the twins. She felt confident of traversing even the lands of the Dunedain in the North that were now within reach. She knew where to expect the rivers, ridges or lakes and how to navigate around them. It made her feel independent and free. 

Tessarion also shared basic knowledge of the many power balances in Middle Earth during their conversations. The complicated broken relationship between Rohan and Gondor. The trade networks that came and went between Bree, Mirkwood and Laketown. The silent realm of Lorien where the power of the Lady Galadriel kept the land in stasis. He confirmed her own limited knowledge of this world, and added more. He described the many Dunedain settlements that kept the enemy in check in the north. She learned that the men they sometimes encountered were Dunedain rangers that kept an eye on the lands around Rivendell and the Shire. He displayed his concern for the upcoming evil forces that kept sweeping southward from the North from its many ancient strongholds there. 

So when he pulled up his horse next to her, stroking its mane, murmuring in Elvish, she welcomed him back with a smile, anticipating their conversation. 

The sun was shining brightly halfway in the sky, and Tessarion was eating an apple, sitting in the saddle with the flair of an old cowboy. His hair seemed to be an auburn colour when the sun hit it directly, and she marvelled at the shiny braids that were woven in an intricate pattern, baring his face and ears. The sunlight seemed to enhance his presence, as if his features had been carved afresh, his scar reflected the light subtly. 

But her admiration of his features was short lived, for her stomach made her eyeing the apple with jealousy. She never saw these Elves snacking during patrol! He noticed immediately and gave her a cheeky smile. 

“Seeing something you like?” His smile turned into a grin. 

“Where did you get that?” she asked with longing. 

He waved his hand vaguely towards where came from while taking a large bite. 

She noticed a small drops of apple juice on his bottom lip, sliding further down to his chin while he chewed and she surprised herself by the wicked thoughts that popped up in her mind. Thoughts about her tongue on his skin. Before she had time to blush he wiped his chin with the back of his sleeve, waking her out of her fantasy.

He caught her gaze and looked at her thoughtfully. Suddenly, as if deciding on a strategy, he suddenly sat up straight in the saddle, saying something in quick Elvish and the others rode on ahead. When they were out of hearing, she made a mental note on the large distance that was necessary for private conversation. These elves with their heightened senses! 

Tessarion refrained from speaking for a while until she grew uneasy under the tension. 

“Did you want to speak about something, taichou?” 

“Indeed I did.” he smiled apologetically at her. “I hope that it is unsurprising to you that Lord Elrond briefed me on your sensitive information.”

She had suspected that that would be the case. He of all elves, should know, since he was controlling the lands and information networks around Rivendell. It was logical that he knew. She nodded in confirmation. 

Chewing thoughtfully on another piece of apple he stated in a softer tone: “I urge you not speak of it in the company of my warriors, Rin. I needed to know, being the leader of the Guard, but I will not risk it spreading to my men. I can vouch for them, but there is no telling what will happen when the enemy puts them to the test.” 

Rin shivered at his underlying meaning. 

“I want you to recall your story as you have told it to my Lord, Rin. Second hand information will become less accurate when passed on. I just want to be sure I have not missed anything.” 

She nodded in understanding. “The person that is of importance is called Aragorn. He will be raised in Rivendell from an early age. He hails from the North, the Dunedain. His father’s name is said to sound the same.”

Tessarion stilled for a while. She could hear the wheels turning in his head. 

“Alas, that is not much more than Lord Elrond shared with me. Is there nothing else that you can think of? Maybe an object that is connected to him?” 

She had to confess that she had forgotten that possibility. She racked her brain for something, but details were vague and obscure. She did read the book, but she was not a die-hard fan. She looked at Tessarion helplessly. 

“Maybe a weapon?” 

And then something clicked in her brain. Of course! It was so obvious that she completely overlooked it! 

“Yes! A sword! A sword that was broken!” 

Tessarion grew pale. She knew that he was aware now. Aware of the importance of Aragorn and when she spotted the resolve that followed his shock, she knew that he was dedicated to her cause in finding him. 

“I know of that house. But this name is not connected to it. There is only Arador and his son Arathorn that I can think of.” 

“Can it be that we are too late?” The possibility gave her the chills, she had hoped that Aragorn existed already and that circumstances would bring him to Rivendell as it should happen. But what if the opposite was true? What would become of Middle Earth when Aragorn was dead? And what was her role in this? Was she here by accident? Or did she have a part to play in this? 

“There is no way to find out for now Rin. This Guard will not pass the boundaries of this realm. Our only contact with mortals is the occasional meeting with rangers. The lives of the Second Born are intense but short and follow a different pace from ours. So I fear I have lost track of that house, although some information remains, for I heard rumors that Arador has been killed recently. Elrond’s sons will know more of this, since they venture past the boundaries towards the North. I suspect they formed friendships with those houses in the North. But they do not share their knowledge easily.”

“That seems, unwise….” she wondered out loud, ignoring the fact that, that he just categorised her life as well, as intense but short. It was one of those moments that she realised that he may seem human and only a few years older, but that he was something else entirely. 

“Indeed. Unwise and selfish. They hold their own counsel.” 

She heard the frustration in his voice and said no more. It seemed the twins had some kind of dubious reputation, and Tessarion made it almost seem like they were untrustworthy. She wondered about that, since her trust in them had been larger than life. Until they ditched her of course. She ground her teeth. The hurt was there, deep inside, contained within a ball of anger. And that anger was simple. Underneath were more complicated feelings. Did she really love them? She shook her head. Better not to think about them. Right now she had a friend in the captain of the Guard, and she would be content with that. 

“So, what now, taichou?” 

He stared ahead over the grass towards his warriors in the distance. The strong wind swept past them. 

“We will focus our intelligence gathering on the north for now. I will set out a request for information, through our networks. I fear it is a balancing act. We cannot state the exact nature of our request, it would raise suspicions. We have to gather indirect information in the hopes it will lead us to our goal.” 

Rin felt frustration rising inside her. Gather information? Stay put and stay out of sight? Indirect information? She did not like this stealthy cat-and-mouse game, but it seemed they were the only weapons Tessarion had at his disposal that would not raise suspicion, being the Captain of the Guard. 

So for now, she gritted her teeth at her own powerlessness and let the wind sweep her alongside him in silence. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

As was her custom, Rin did not seek out social contact voluntarily within the patrol even though Tessarion encouraged her to do so. The Elves teased her, laughed at her mortal ways, but were always kind and looking out for her, teaching her all kinds of lore, like caring for her horse, her weapons and surviving in the wild. She felt exactly as they most likely saw her: a mortal in the midst of immortals.

Being a reclusive type for many years, the constant presence of the company around her tired her out and made her sometimes irritable. Only Bethril she tolerated at any time, feeling their bond soothed her uneasiness over other things. She had noticed quickly that the horse reacted to her moods. This sensitivity showed her the power over their bond, for her strength and weaknesses resonated in Bethril too.

Two Elves who were fluent in Westron, Raithon and Aien, took an interest in her katana. She learned later that they were masters in sword making. When she told them that her sword was very old and the technique of its making lost to later generations, they asked if they could inspect it. After intense study, they shared with her many things about her katana that she had not known nor noticed before. To her surprise, they told her that they felt the resolve of its maker and the impact that resolve had on the weapon and its wielder. 

She could not help but smile. She knew her katana was special, but it was also priceless. Her father had always urged her to use it. An unused sword would grow lazy and lose its soul, he always told her. After he died, she read in his last will and testament, the true nature of the blade. Smiling she realised that this was exactly what the Elves seemed to sense, the soul of the katana. 

So she took a deep breath and told them that the katana was made by the most famous sword master of Japan, Masamune Gorō Nyūdō and that its worth was not measurable in money in her world. She told them many stories after dinner that night of Masamune-sama and other famous samurai and sword makers. The two Elves seemed hungry for knowledge and listened silently, afterwards interrogating her on details. They repaid her by sharing with her, stories of their own legendary swords and their makers, and stories of times long gone, stories of noble deeds and perilous adventures. And she forgot about her own hurt for a while as she listened in awe, with Tessarion smiling his approval in the background at the growing interaction between Rin and the rest of the patrol. 

Xxxxxxx

While her days with the Guard fled past, she learned that as far as diversions were concerned, Tessarion proved to be the best one of all. He was accessible, easy going and funny and she found herself increasingly eager for his company. She could not decipher her feelings towards him at that point, it was friendship first and foremost, but she noticed herself being attracted to him as well. His handsome face, agile body, his qualities as a warrior and a leader, it all added up and she noticed more and more that her eyes sought him out whenever he was near. It confused her, since her complicated feelings for the twins were still dancing just underneath the surface of her consciousness. 

One morning, he stated out of the blue, that she was different from other humans in Middle Earth. “I had thought mortal women to be busy cooking, nursing or cleaning house all day. How come you are different, Rin?” 

“I just don’t like cooking, nursing or cleaning house.” 

“Ai! How come you failed to meet the expectations of your gender?” He winked at her. 

“In my land there are not much expectations concerning one’s gender. I was free to choose my own path.” 

“Well, it seems your land is lacking discipline. How dare you choose your own path? I will make sure to replace your sword by with a broom tomorrow!” He laughed out loud. 

She pushed him in the shoulder, for they were riding close to each other. He feigned being hurt with a childish expression. “My lady, you are too cruel!” 

She could not help but laugh at his silliness. 

Tessarion, still laughing, said gently. “Forgive my silly teasing Rin. You are quite exceptional. I never met a mortal that was this skilled with a blade. Why did you choose to master the art of war?” 

She blinked at his gentle and friendly question. How did one explain to an Elf warrior that sword fighting was a sport at home? 

“I did not study the art of war, taichou-sama, for I am not trained as a warrior, or soldier as we call it. I practiced sword fighting as a sport, for relaxation and to keep my body healthy.” 

“Why are you not a warrior?” Tessarion frowned. 

“Killing others is normally not allowed under my country’s laws, unless one is a soldier in war. I do not want to kill for my country or my emperor for that matter. The first time I ever killed another being was here in Middle Earth when I met orcs. I cannot and will not call myself a warrior. For me, killing is a personal and intimate endeavour. ” 

Tessarion chewed on her words carefully. She had some insightful self reflections and he felt her convictions keenly and he suspected that she would have a hard time fitting into his Guard. Still, it didn’t hurt for her to try.

“Anyway.” She mused on: “You and I could not be warriors in my country, since we do not fight with swords any more.” 

“Not with swords?” 

“We use guns. Metal devices that explode and send a piece of metal with incredible speed through a body. If aimed well, death is quick.” 

Tessarion stared at her in awe while he tried to wrap his mind around such a weapon. 

After some silence he said softly as if to himself. “Well, I would be without a purpose in your world”.

“You might have time to learn how to cook and clean then!” she laughed out loud and urged Bethril forward to escape his possible wrath at her quip. 

When he caught up with her again mirth was written all over his face. He enjoyed their verbal sparring as much as she did. 

“Do you miss your home?” 

She had learned that this was Tessarion’s way, teasing, laughing on one hand and then suddenly, asking very private and direct questions. She found she liked his openness very much. 

“I do not. I quite like it here.” 

“You have nothing or nobody to miss at home?” he cocked his head to the side. 

She shrugged. “No, not really.” She wasn’t ready to share that her family was dead. “Maybe my training partner. It would be nice to show him the skill of the Elves. He is a better sword master than I am”. 

“Better?” Tessarion cocked his head to the side. “I would have liked to meet this master. What is his name?” 

“Hideo. Akamine Hideo.” Saying Hideo’s name brought back memories of the activities they used to do together. Intense training rounds with their swords. Wild sex so she could feel something other than the hurt from the loss of her family and desire for revenge. Did she miss him like she missed the twins? No she didn’t, she mused. The emotional connection had been lacking. But she did miss the physical intimacy that came with no strings attached. Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed Tessarion’s next question. 

“Since this other sword master is not here, would you be willing to give me a lesson on your techniques? I find your sword fighting style very intriguing and would like to learn more about it.” 

She stared at him in surprise. Why would a master Elven swordsman want to learn from her? But she saw that he was serious in his request. Swallowing, she could only nod, at which he smiled. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

That evening she faced Tessarion alongside the sparring Elves who occasionally threw them curious glances. He had shed his leather tunic and mail and wore a loose soft looking tunic of a light brown color. She could see well-muscled pale chest peeking out. He had rolled up his sleeves, showing strong arms and slender wrists. She noticed what a handsome figure he cut and wondered what his body would feel like, promptly blushing at her unexpected thoughts. She hoped Tessarion would not notice her flushed face as she stood in her racer-back holding the katana straight out towards him in a basic “chudan-no-kamae” stance. 

“I am trained in various styles, both old and new and from other cultures and times. But I will teach you the basic exercises that go with the history of these kind of swords in my world, the katana. So we start with the first kata or exercise called “ippon-uchi no waza”. 

Tessarion nodded and watched seriously when she gave an example of the exercise and then copied her effortlessly and to perfection. She smiled and moved on to the second kata and all too soon they were immersed in the demonstration and learning of different offence and defense techniques. 

Sometime in-between stances, she noticed Raithon moving to stand next to them, watching the training with interest, with Aien following suit. 

Standing wide-legged with her left side towards Tessarion, placing the length of her katana behind her side she explained: “This stance is called “waki-gamae” and it is said that Miyamoto Musashi used this stance in his legendary fight with Sasaki Kojiro. They were legendary warriors in my world”. 

Raithon nodded, remembering her stories on this famous samurai from her past. Tessarion mimicked her again effortlessly. 

“It seems a highly offensive move, while the distance with the opponent is deceptively close, since the sword length is hidden.” he noted. 

“You are correct,” she smiled. 

“There is beauty and practicality in these styles, Rin. I thank you for your teachings. I will incorporate some moves into my own style, I find some of them useful.” They smiled at each other and then Tessarion nodded at the two spectators, calmly giving them orders: “Raithon, back to your training. Aien, come and spar with Rin.” 

He looked back at her. “I will watch and see if I can aid you in your fighting, if you don’t mind.” She smiled back at him in assent. Perhaps she would finally get some help in learning how to defeat these supernaturally strong Elf warriors. 

Tessarion perched upon a large boulder and watched as she sparred with Aien. After several bouts of losing to him, Tessarion called out, “Adapt your footwork, Rin.”

She looked at him questioningly. “Adapt my footwork? He should just refrain himself from using Elven power!” She glared at Aien, who smiled at her mischievously. 

“Elven power? I fear I do not understand your reasoning, Rin. All I see is a bad loser!” Aien had become in a very short time, such a good companion, that he started to joke with her in a rather modern way, making her laugh constantly at his quips. 

Tessarion jumped down from the boulder and strode towards her. Standing alongside her, he pressed his body against hers, grabbed her katana by folding his hands over hers and barked at Aien: “Again, but slow!” To Rin he said, “Watch my feet, and learn.” 

He was holding Rin and the katana in a death grip, but she could only focus on the warmth and smell that radiated from him. He smelled like earth, sweat and horses. Not as overwhelming as the twins when she met them because they had not travelling that long yet. Pressed against Tessarion she realised how much she missed the casual touching of the twins. Their ever-present hands, the feel of their bodies, their warmth, their breath. She felt a lump rising in her throat and quickly swallowed, focussing on Tessarion’s movements instead, yet still fully aware of just how good Tessarion’s body felt leaning on her. 

While slowly turning in towards Aien’s movement, he showed her how her footwork could aid her against the strength behind his blows. She was amazed at the simplicity of his suggestions. With just a simple adjustment of the position of her knees and feet, she felt capable of withstanding the sheer force of Aien’s blows better. 

Tessarion released her, stepping back to watch her mimic what he had shown her, nodding in satisfaction. “Now you get it. Keep in mind Rin, there is no boundary to your development as a fighter. Fight with your head and heart, adapt when necessary. Strength alone, is no sure victor. Work on your footwork and you should have no problems handling stronger opponents.” he said with a smile. Their eyes met and she caught her breath at the look in his eyes. She was not the only one affected by their close proximity earlier, it seemed. Aware that she had seen his barely hidden attraction to her, he turned and walked away to check on other sparring groups, before she could reply. 

Aien winked at her as he prepared to continue sparring. Rin though, could only feel the warmth of Tessarion’s hands and body still distractingly present on her skin. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The forest resonated with the sound of metal scraping over metal, followed by loud cries. A foul smell of blood and worse things hung over a small clearing. Two Elf Lords stood panting, shoulders hunched, in the epicentre of destruction, back to back. It was clear they were desperate, at the end of their energy reserves. And still the fight was not done. 

Five orcs were still standing and in the distance two wargs were approaching at top speed. The orcs grinned, they would have the upper hand soon. And they could finally end the reign of these dangerous brothers against their kin and comrades once and for all. They would feast on Elf flesh this night, this much was certain. 

Elrohir yelled at Elladan in elvish: “Wargs are approaching brother, I cannot be sure how many. We need to do this quick!” 

Out of breath, Elladan nodded, staring at the three orcs within his line of vision, leaving the others to his brother. Gathering their strength with effort, they took a moment to collect their thoughts. Then, mind clear, they ran out simultaneously with a savage cry in a final charge, their power flaring fiercely once more, sending fear into their enemy’s hearts. 

Elladan ran forwards, evaded a swinging axe of one, and leaped light as air, on the blade of the sword of another, sending it down into the dirt. The orc’s face was thus within the reach of his sword, but the creature was agile and bent out of reach. 

With a flash of irritation, Elladan jumped backwards before the orc could recover. He landed, legs bent into a crouch, leaning forwards, his fingertips on the ground for balance. Then, like a spring that uncoiled suddenly, he jumped forwards with lightning speed, his sword in both hands above his head. Then he let it descend while shifted slightly to the side, making it come downward with a slight angle. His Elven force together with the gravitational pull made his swords cut through flesh and bone. Two orcs fell in the wake of his sword. Blood sprayed his face. To his dismay, at the end of his movement, his sword got stuck within a bone and was wrenched out of his arm, twisting it painfully. 

Now disarmed he cursed loudly, ducking underneath the swing of the third orc’s jagged edged longsword. While ducking he pulled a dagger out of his boot, keeping it in a reverse grip, he scraped it alongside the orc’s arm, making it cry out in agony. The sword swung back, the speed incredible, considering the weight of the creature. He barely got out of the way, stumbling backwards. A stinging feeling on his cheek told him he had been grazed by the sword tip. He needed to end this, or he would meet his own ending! 

The orc swung the sword towards him again, but before it could put speed and power into the movement, Elladan made a split-second decision. He grabbed the blade at an angle with one hand, the pain of the cut tearing through his arm like molten fire. Fortunately, the jagged edge made his grip extra tight and he used his Elven strength to pull the sword behind him, to get his opponent within the reach and plunged the dagger into its belly. 

The orc gurgled, blood, vomit and spit spilling out of its mouth while he tore its belly open, the warm intestines spilling over his hand and arm. He hardly registered the foul smell of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his brother ending his part of the fight, preparing for the imminent arrival of the wargs while eyeing Elladan with worry in his eyes. This was a close call. 

When Elladan was sure the orc would not stand up again, he released the sword, cursing the large gash in the palm of his hand, bleeding profusely. But there was no time to wrap it. He could feel the wargs approaching, they would be here any second now. 

He ran towards his sword that was still stuck in the dead orc, putting his foot on the body to gain leverage. He managed to pull it out of the bone, just in time to face the wargs that were upon them.

To their surprise, the beasts had slowed down their rampage and stepped into the clearing with care, steam coming out of their nostrils, foam dripping from their jaws. They smelled foul, of blood, rotting flesh and dung. The intelligence in their eyes was uncanny, as they assessed the situation and the two Elf Lords in their power. 

They carried no riders, a strange feat, for wargs were brainless powerhouses, in need of a master. There was no time to dwell on that, because they needed to use this calm moment of assess how to kill the beasts. They could not be allowed to roam these lands free. Not when they had a chance to dispatch them. 

But before they could charge at them, the animals turned and rushed away, leaving them puzzled but relieved. The only thing left in the clearing was the sound of their laboured breathing. 

Xxxxxxxxx

Elrohir sat on his knees, shirtless at the edge of a small stream. He was tending his brother’s hand with care, sewing the wound close as best he could. Elladan stared over the water in contemplation, ignoring the stinging sensations. They felt shell-shocked. A whirr of emotions had taken hold of them and they could not find their bearings, so they remained silent. Moving on automatic pilot. 

“There. Done.” his voice sounded monotone. Not like himself. Shaken out of his reverie, Elladan turned to watch his brother, shocked at his appearance, suddenly seeing him for real. His face had the colour of ashes, dark circles underneath his grey eyes. Despite the fact that they cleaned themselves, a streak of red was following his jawline. The silver light seemed gone from his irises. There was no emotion on his face and fear crept into his heart. 

He raised his hand tentatively, placing it on his chest. The cold skin sending shivers of anxiety through his spine. His skin felt too cold, or was it his own hand that was wrong? He felt confused suddenly on the trustworthiness of his senses. 

He caressed his brothers chest for a moment, trailing his pectoral muscles, until his hand rested on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. He was not sure at that moment if he was gripping it to comfort his brother or to gain strength himself. He was not sure if he was in his right mind and he blinked slowly as if waking from a tense dream. 

Then suddenly, sound came back to the world around him. The stream made a happy clattering, the wind rustled the leaves of some bushes nearby. A single bird sang a cheerful song some distance away. It all seemed to stand out in sharp contrast to their state of mind. 

With a shock, Elladan realised that he too must be appearing as his brother, just as empty and pale. And fear crept into his heart with more intensity this time. He knew what was the cause of this, as did his brother. 

They stood, sharing a knowing look. He did not have to say it out loud. It was clear in his eyes. Elrohir turned away from him tiredly, picking up his tunic from the ground, dressing himself. In silence they mounted their horses and picked up their own trail reluctantly, back to Rivendell.


	18. When dusk was brooding on the northern horizon ….

When dusk was brooding on the northern horizon on the twelfth day of riding, the Elves halted and fell eerily silent, listening intently. Rin cocked her ears, intent on any divergent sound. But it was only the lack of sound that stood out: birds had stopped singing, the wind seemed to have disappeared, and behind this wall of silence, she heard nothing. She felt inadequate in her qualities, being a mortal. And again she was admiring the elves around her and their heightened senses, for the company had quietly re-assembled some time before, on purpose as it now seemed. 

She remembered her conversation with Tessarion in the stables and she sought eye-contact with him to see what his orders would be. Tessarion, occupied with whatever was coming, gave her a stern look that told her to keep still. 

She felt just like her first encounter with orcs, the tension in the air, the silence before a storm. Straining her eyes on the horizon, she heard and felt the elves around her starting to move. The hissing of metal swords being pulled from sheaths and the pulling of bow drawstrings. Alarmed, she stared at the change around her and noticed the disarray of warriors had disappeared and they moved in sync now, positioning themselves into a meticulate set up. And still she had neither seen nor heard a thing.

Raithon, next to her, seemed to notice her confusion and said softly: “Draw a line from my arrow with your eyes, Rin.” 

When she followed an imaginary line from his arrow towards the field of vision, she suddenly saw movement. A large mass of grey bodies toppled over the horizon, speeding towards them at an unnatural pace. 

Tessarion had seen enough and gave the order to attack. She felt elated, she could finally channel her cropped up energy and tension into action. But Tessarion had other plans. The company separated automatically into two groups, one at the front and one behind and to her disappointment, he ordered her to the latter. Grumbling, she reined in Bethril until she was aligned with the others, glaring at the oblivious Tessarion who rode quickly to the front of the company. 

With a silent gesture of his sword arm, he urged the company to dive forward over the grassy plains towards the orcs, like a wave approaching land. The feeling of power and force caused her heart to quicken and her senses heightened. Eagerly she unsheathed her katana. 

It was a large group, at least three times the size of the Guard itself. And when Rin finally dove into their ranks, slicing an orc in its face, causing it to fall and scream in agony, she felt excitement burning in her veins. She forced Bethril to turn for another attempt, but Raithon, had already made quick work of the orc, beheading it with one swift clinical movement. 

She turned just in time to notice another orc attempting to hurt Bethril, swinging a large axe. Cursing in anger, she urged Bethril to speed up to escape the range of the weapon. When safe, she turned sharply to get a better angle to charge back. Thundering towards it, she penetrated its eye socket with her blade with ease. Slowing abruptly to a standstill, forcing herself to hold onto the blade with all her strength, she watched the orc while it stood perplexed for a small moment. Then it wailed in pain. Smiling, she turned the blade slowly, making it squirm. Its arm, the axe still in it, swung aimlessly around. 

Vaguely she noticed the fight was over already, almost before it really started. She pulled out her blade with one swift motion, only to penetrate his abdomen, where she repeated her treatment. He would die a slow and painful death and she felt her heart sing, growing by his suffering. The door inside her, creaked open a notch. 

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and a strong voice ordered: “Just kill it, Rin. Do not play with it.” 

The door closed shut within an instant. The bloodlust was gone, her rational mind washing it away and in confusion she stared at Tessarion. He did not hide his disgust at her conduct. She felt dizzy for a moment and then anger surged through her.

“You feel sorry for this filth?” 

He stared at her, carefully hiding his emotions this time. “Filth? They have stepped on forbidden ground. Their punishment is death. Not torture. ‘Tis no more than that. Stick to the purpose of the Guard.” 

She stared at him hard, trying to find the hidden meaning of his words, but he did not show emotion of any kind. Then, with one swift movement, she cut the orc’s throat. 

She gave Tessarion a cold stare. Then she kicked Bethril in the flanks, urging the horse away, angry with Tessarion and his Guard and angry with herself. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That evening Rin found herself brooding over the afternoon’s events. They had camped close to a lake, and the men took turns bathing. True to what the twins had told her, they seemed to lack a certain feel for modesty or decorum and she secretly feasted her eyes on all that male splendor. Only Tessarion seemed take her feelings into consideration. When he stood before her, his hair devoid of braids and a dark wet mess on his shoulders, he apologized. “My men have little dealings with mortals, Rin, they are unaware of cultural differences. I hope we have not offended you.” 

She gave him a small smile. “On the contrary.” she replied, mindful that she was still angry at him although she felt it was thoughtful of him to consider her feelings. Although she was used to communal bathing, bathing as a lone female amongst a big group of male elves was not something she was comfortable with. 

He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side, as if trying to read her. 

“Do you wish to bathe?” 

She nodded with vigour. 

“I will accompany you, Rin. We will go somewhat further, so you can bathe with privacy. I will stand guard.” 

“I don’t need protection.” 

“Everybody needs protection, Rin. Only fools think they are invincible.” He said with his jaw set. 

She felt his remark being a sneer towards the irresponsible twins and she felt partially guilty for her statement. 

“Fine. You stand watch then, Taichou-sama.” She then remembered a question she wanted to ask. “Is it like this if there are female warriors?”

Tessarion shook his head slightly as they walked. “Male and female elves have no qualms bathing together. We are comfortable with nudity. We usually have one or two female warriors with us, but all were due for their rotation of leave at this time. Currently you are the only one, as you have noticed.” 

The moon shone brightly when they reached the water. She thought she could almost smell it, her body screamed for clear water to rinse off the dirt of the fight and the smell of sweat and horses. 

Ignoring Tessarion’s watchful presence she undressed, feeling the cold air tightening her body. She rinsed out her dirty clothes in the water first and laid them at the edge of the water on a set of small rocks to dry. She then dove into the black deepness, letting the icy waters envelop her body, cleansing it. When she broke through the surface, she gasped from the cold and quickly swam a few rounds to heat up her body. 

Her thoughts wandered to the clash with Tessarion that afternoon. She had felt that he confronted her with the core of her very being and then dismissed it, dismissed her. The goal of the Guard was not distract oneself from pain, to feel alive, nor to seek risk or finding satisfaction in torturing enemies. She knew in that moment that the Guard was not for her. Tessarion and his men killed with a purpose and a noble one at that. Spending more time than necessary on the act of killing was a liability in a member of the Guard, one that could bring others in danger. She did not fit. 

The previous days she felt herself drawn towards her Captain in ways she could not comprehend completely. There was a tenderness in him towards her that felt alien to her and she welcomed it. She had opened up to him, she dared call him her friend. 

And now the distance between them felt as large as the first day they met. He had discovered her dirty secret, her dark desire and did not approve. He did not recognize her nor understood her. Not like the twins did. She knew. She knew now, the Guard was not her place. She should leave and find her own way in Middle Earth, in spite of her unlooked-for attraction to the captain. 

Thinking about him, she chanced a look at the edge of the water. And sure enough, there he stood, keeping careful watch on her and the surroundings. His hair, the loose strands seemed to have dried partially. Without the braids his face became more gentle and less hard. He looked good with his hair down. He watched her with gentle warm eyes. And the memories of the past days swept through her mind’s eye. His consideration at her feelings, their openhearted talk on the twins, her homeland, her feelings. The warmth of his body against hers during training. His acceptance of her gesture of affection that night on the boulder. And she knew she could not remain angry at him, there was a connection between them that went further than friendship and she valued it with all her heart. And with that thought, she felt her anger leaving her.

She dived back into the deep. And after some more time of swimming and getting warmed up, she decided to tease the Elf a tiny bit as punishment anyway. Remembering the smouldering look in his eyes when he taught her to adapt her footwork during fighting, she somehow felt that he would not reject her if she invited him for a kiss and more, as the twins did. Maybe she was on a rebound from the twins, but she didn’t care. She wanted to feel something else right now, besides anger and sadness. And she felt a need to test the boundaries of the attraction they had for each other. 

Swimming towards him through the water, she stood up calmly in the shallow part, letting the water slide of her skin. Making eye contact with Tessarion, she stretched out her arms above her head and squeezed water from her hair, offering him a complete and unhurried view of her nakedness. Then she stalked slowly and deliberately towards him. 

She saw his eyes glittering in the starlight, his body poised, a great stillness took hold of him while his eyes roamed her body. Closing the distance, she stopped in front of him, feeling the heat of his body and said: “Do you like what you see, taichou-sama?” 

He blinked, his small step backwards contrasting with his penetrating stare, dark with desire. 

“Are you punishing me for our misunderstanding earlier?”

“I guess I am,” she smirked. 

“Your weapon of choice is impressive, Rin. You are beautiful. I beg you not to tease me, I will not be able to resist you.” 

“Then don’t resist,” She had taken a step towards him, reaching out until her hand found his shirt. Her fingers caressed his chest carefully. When his breath hitched but he did not resist, she used both hands to undo the top strings of his tunic. Tessarion shuddered and closed his eyes, his head tilted backwards slightly. She ran her finger tips down his pectoral muscles towards things hidden lower, the sensations beneath her fingers made her breath catch in her throat. He seemed made of well-defined concrete, clad in warm velvet, and she felt herself becoming aroused.

Leaning in towards him, she whispered into his face: “Kiss me.” 

Tessarion’s eyes opened wide at her bold request. He was convinced now that the twins had done an excellent job in severing their bond with her if she desired him now. She should not have any inclination for another if there was even a shred of the bond intact. 

He hesitated. His mind travelled to Zeale, the intimacy they shared so many centuries ago. He had not touched another elleth in that way ever since she died. It was not in his nature to be intimate on a whim or without at least a partial fea connection. Some friends said that he was too hard on himself, but he did not see it as hardship, nor as a conscious choice. No elleth had caught his attention since Zeale. 

And here he now stood, facing no elleth but a mortal! He found himself attracted to her otherness, to her slender, lean body, her black hair, her beautiful eyes. He found that he wanted her, his fea reaching for her instinctively.

But what of her expectations? Being a mortal, she was unfamiliar with his Elvish ways. Despite their fea recognition, he sensed that her intentions were of the fleeting kind. Seeking warmth for a night until morning. But his Elvish nature prevented him to pursue such shallow entertainment. 

He raised his hands to cup her face reverently, his lips gliding softly from her earlobe towards her lips, not quite touching. He whispered: “Forgive me, mellon nin, I cannot give you what you want.” 

She was shivering at his touch, he could feel it in his hands, and he felt a strange triumph over his effect on her. 

“And what is it, I want?” her eyes were closed, her chin pulled forward, her lips waiting in anticipation. 

“You wish for satisfaction, for completion. You wish to forget, if only for this one night. And I am your tool for that.” 

She opened her eyes, his hands still holding her face, staring at him with reptile-like attention. 

“That is what I wish. You think it wrong?” 

Tessarion sighed, lowering his hands, his warmth leaving her face. She frowned at him. 

“I am of Elf kind, Rin. You know what this kind of intimacy means for my kind?” 

She sighed irritably. “Marriage. The twins told me.” 

“That is not the whole story, Rin. Love and intimacy, a connection between fea, they are sacred to us, cherished above all else, they are a gift from the Valar. We do not simply venture into physical intimacy for fleeting pleasure, lest there is a special connection to be cherished.” 

Now Rin took a step back. “So be it,” she replied, turning to grab her clothes so that he could not see the hurt that flit across her face from his rejection. And to think she had thought to punish him! Still facing away she put on her panties, momohiki pants and with difficulty, due to her moist skin, her sports bra. 

Tessarion watched her, his fea feeling bereft of her nearness, his body yearning to touch hers. Making a quick decision he hoped he would not regret, he moved forward to catch her wrist as she fumbled with her clothes, turning her back firmly to face him. 

She looked up at him questioningly as he smiled at her, reclaiming the distance, his hand sliding downwards to caress her palm with his thumb ever so softly. 

“You misunderstand me, Rin. You are breathtaking in your beauty, your warrior nature, your intelligence, your wit. I care for you more than I have cared for any elleth in a very long time, Rin. I can feel the familiarity between our fea, although the connection is not complete, nor its nature defined.”

He raised his hand again, staring into her eyes, grabbing the nape of her neck carefully, guiding her towards his lips. The kiss was featherlight and sweet. It was a sharp contrast with the warrior that he was, standing there before her in all his rock hard perfection. 

Her cheeks were hot, a burst of butterflies pooled through her insides and she had trouble looking him straight in the eye after his kiss. He smiled gently at her. “I wish to touch you because I care about you, Rin.” 

She blinked at him. 

She felt his lips brushing hers again, his breath on her skin. Emotions welled up in her and she fought to keep her tears in check. He seemed to sense it and he smiled softly against her lips. 

“Is this such a revelation, Rin? Do you not feel that I am more in your heart?” 

She took a shaking breath. “Hai….”

His eyes were friendly, caring. Then with a deep sigh, she kissed him back, surrendering to the feeling of being cherished and the sweet torture of his tongue in her mouth. She felt his hands sliding over her back, drawing patterns, causing goosebumps. One hand slid lower, beneath her behind, caressing it softly. Then he bent lower down, until his arm was aligned with the back of her knees, scooping her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her towards a large boulder. He sat down on it, positioning her onto his lap, legs to one side, his lips never leaving hers. 

His ministrations were featherlight and gentle and she felt herself giving into the feeling, relishing each long stretched moment. When he finally released her lips, and sat back a bit to look at her in the eye, he whispered, “Are you sure, Rin? We cannot go all the way, for I will not bind you to me….” 

She sat up straight, giving him a level stare, “Just give me what you are willing to give.” And she kissed him passionately, threading her fingers through his hair. He kissed her back hard, his breath heavy, his body heat igniting her core. 

She noticed she had no regrets, no thoughts on the twins. And it was a state of mind that she longed for. She pressed herself against him, soon becoming frustrated by the angle. He seemed to notice her need and lifted her by her waist, letting her swing her leg to the other side so she could straddle him. 

She felt his fingers roaming the fabric of her bra until his fingers hooked underneath the bottom seam, pulling it over her head and arms, over and off. She felt strangely vulnerable when he revealed her breasts, her arms caught above her head for a moment within the fabric of the bra. She felt goosebumps erupting immediately, making her shiver. When her arms fell back her sides, he reclaimed her lips while rolling her nipples between his fingers slowly. The sensation made her groan softly in his mouth, grasping his upper arms in reflex. While doing so, she realised that Tessarion was still fully dressed, his clothes a barrier between them. 

She opened her eyes, ending their kiss. They stared at each other, desire lingering on their faces, while Tessarion quickly took off his tunic and shirt. Her eyes raked over his chest hungrily, he was perfect, muscular but lightly built. Scars marred his skin and to her amazement she noticed an abstract kind of tattoo on his right chest, consisting of vertical lines. She traced them with her fingers in awe. 

His skin was soft and warm underneath her fingers and feeling courageous, she let them slip downwards over his chest towards the top of his pants, slipping behind the drawstrings, loosening them up. Her fingers grazed his member in the process and his breath hitched, followed by a soft curse in Elvish. When she loosened the top of his pants, she cupped his member softly, relishing the feel of him in her hand. 

If Tessarion had doubts or fear of regret earlier, there was no room for it now. His mind was flooded with the sole sensation of her warm hand holding him, causing blissful friction. Having a taste of her lips, her weight and warmth in his lap, made him feel his centuries-long control slipping slowly but steadily. Her skin was like silk underneath his fingers, her muscle tone subtle, but defined and hard. Her black hair and eyes reflected the starlight, making them shine in the dark. Her lips were slightly open, saliva adorned her bottom lip. Her inward and outward beauty was, for a moment, painful to behold and he watched her in apprehension, caught in a timeless moment dominated by hesitance. He did not wish to bind himself to a mortal on a partial fea bond. He should stop. But he felt himself falling, tumbling into this bright place of desire and there was no escape. 

His fea throbbed and flowed around him, reaching for her, wanting her even closer. When she started stroking his member with her small hand, he felt all discipline disappear. He took a shuddering breath, trying to find strength in his breathing. He forced himself to think of Zeale, but even her memory disappeared as snow before sunlight. How he longed for the touch of a female after all these years! Without further thought, he plunged his tongue between her inviting lips, a groan escaping his own. 

She did not have the words to explain afterwards, when she thought back at this moment. It felt as if his energy was flowing over, almost bursting out of him. And to her surprise it was a familiar feeling, a recognition almost. She felt at ease and free, his energy filling her to the brim, making her heart beat steady and strong, full of euphoria, creating a high that came close to a fighting frenzy, but was different altogether. 

Despite this silent power display, he kept being gentle with inhuman restraint, his ministrations passionate, forceful but also teasing when his soft lips pressed featherlight on her skin descending from her mouth towards her neck. Only his breathing betrayed the impact of the movements she made with her hand. His ragged breath followed his lips on her skin over her collarbone towards her nipples. He sweetly tortured her breasts with his tongue until her breath matched his own and she was a shivering heap. Panting she gasped: “Tessarion….” 

He looked up at her, his eyes glistening in the starlight. He did not hide his lust for her and it excited her even more. 

He slipped one of his hands over her stomach and down between her legs, stroking through the fabric of her pants. Then he tugged on the straps, loosening the knot, opening them. His fingers moved inside of her thighs, sliding close alongside her core, but not quite touching her for some time, until he finally did, making her legs shake. Bolder, his fingers traced the edges of her panties, until she felt his calloused finger pulling aside the fabric. With a gasp, she let him slip his finger in and out of her folds, the rough skin pleasantly rubbing. While the tension inside her body built, she cried softly, her mouth on his shoulder trying to keep the sound muffled. 

He was driving her mad with desire and she was determined to pay him back, stroking his member with a torturous slow pace until she noticed with satisfaction his glistening skin and pained face. Suddenly he held her wrist pulling her away. 

They stared at each other, hearts hammering, panting, eyes wild. “Stop Rin, for I am almost…”

She tried to pry her wrist from his hand, scowling at him, trying to break free, trying to kiss him, but he held her at bay. “Please Rin…. I will not last….I have not felt this for centuries and …!!” 

“Centuries?” she echoed. He must have loved somebody centuries ago, she thought through the haze of arousal. And she felt for him, as she realised what it meant to be an Elf and lose a loved one. How he had not gone mad was beyond her. Why he chose her after all these centuries was beyond her. How he could be so sweet and patient and in control was beyond her. The revelation that he was here in her arms, kissing her, driving her towards completion caused a rush of adrenaline in her system and she felt high on the sheer compliment that this was, coming from this beautiful and fearsome Elf warrior. 

She would not leave him unsatisfied if this was his first time after so long. She did not let him finish his sentence, because she moved her hips forwards, rubbing herself against his hard member until his eyes became unfocused and words escaped him. Pushing him backwards on the stone, she grabbed his arms and pinned him down. Moving more she caused wickedly good friction and Tessarion groaned in sweet agony. He held on to her as if she were a lifeline while she moved her hips, grinding into him, riding him, driving him mad. 

Tessarion closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, fighting the urge to undress her, and force her upon him, penetrating her. Instead he let her dominate him, riding this dangerous edge, giving into the sensations she was giving him, trying desperately to last. When he felt his climax approaching, he forcefully pushed his hands up and grabbed the side of her face, kissing her softly, whispering desperately. “Rin....” 

She kissed him back hard, hands grabbing his shoulders, tongue thrusting in and out of his mouth. He felt her becoming undone, trembling all over while calling out into his mouth, her fingernails digging painfully into his skin. Amazingly she did not falter but gritted her teeth, a dark desire emanating from her eyes. She kept her pace, riding against him, intent on taking him with her, reducing him to a smouldering heap. 

She looked stunning, face slack, her chest glistening from sweat, her movements determined, chasing his fulfilment with desperate movements while prolonging her own pleasure. 

He could only hold on to her. He closed his eyes, cursing in Elvish at the intensity of the sensations, when finally he let himself go with a long gasp, succumbing to the relentless waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He sensed their feas dancing alongside each other in a soothing way. Then he fell backwards, his hands still on her hips, heart thudding, limbs shaking, eyes rolled backwards. 

When they finally caught their breath, he pulled Rin against his chest, holding her softly, whispering “Thank you,” in her hair, stroking her back while she snuggled into him, fully sated. 

xxxxxxxx

The damp air cooled them down all too soon and Rin, being mortal, stood up reluctantly, shivering in spite of Tessarion’s warmth. They helped to dress each other after shaking the grit from their clothes, causing Rin to giggle when he fumbled with the straps and folds of her momohiki. When dressed, she turned towards Tessarion, taking in his relaxed features. She kissed him standing on tiptoes. Then she slipped her hand in his while retracing their steps towards the waterside. 

While walking she contemplated what happened. She had enjoyed it and felt humbled by being desired by such an impressive Elf. She was glad that she could give him pleasure after his centuries of abstinence. But there was still a feeling of distance between them. Their disagreement about the small battle still clung to her and when she was honest with herself, she did not feel the same ruthless pull towards Tessarion that she felt towards the twins. There was no physical need to be as close as possible. Even after seeing him become undone, he was just Tessarion, her captain and friend. She had enjoyed their intimacy, would love to do it all over again. If he did not wish it, she would not mind or feel hurt. 

“Are you still mad at me now, about the orc?” he asked, breaking their silence. 

She shrugged. “If you choose to be just towards those creatures, it is your choice. Let us agree to disagree.” 

“Those creatures are descendents from Elves. Elves that were tortured and maimed by the Enemy.” 

Shocked she said: “But they are not Elves any longer! They are evil!” 

“Evil? Who are you to pass judgement Rin? Before this conversation, you had no idea of the origins of orcs.” 

“You are right, but you cannot feel pity for them, surely!” 

“I am an Elf, Rin. I fear you do not grasp the nature of my kind. You mistake my actions for pity or kindness. But those are human sentiments, instigated by human emotions like revenge, hurt and rage. Elves do not fall prey so easily to those feelings.”

She contemplated on his words eyeing him thoughtfully. 

“Some do.” 

“Elrond’s sons might seem human to you. Their hunger for blood and revenge seems human enough. But do not forget their true nature, Rin.” His words were stern and she cringed a little, remembering their harsh parting, their rejection of her feelings for immortal beings. 

“I am like them”, she defended. 

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You are not like them. Your heart can still be mended, your hurt will lessen, your bloodlust can be turned into a force of good.” 

She stared at him in wonderment, hope filling her body like champagne for a moment. But then, she knew it was not true. He thought she was broken, someone to be fixed, that she could turn into the girl he thought she once was. And it quickly irritated her. This was who she was. Scars, hurt, bloodlust and revenge. There was no path for her back to her past self, before her family was killed. She had accepted it long ago. She embraced her darkness only recently. Tessarion did not want to accept who she truly was, he was seeing another version of her, a version that he believed could arise from the ashes of trauma. 

“But I am like them, Tessarion. This is who I am. Scars and darkness. I am content with that.” 

He sighed in defeat. Staring into her dark eyes he said softly. “It saddens my heart that you think this way.” 

She pushed him from her with some force until he stumbled back. Her voice grew louder. “You wish to change me, while I have just finally made peace with myself. They showed me I am not broken!” Staring at him with fierce eyes, she said firmly: “I cannot be part of this Guard, Tessarion-sama. There is no place for me here.” 

She felt sadness at these words. The dream of belonging, being part of something larger had been for a short time, mesmerizing, and Tessarion was captivating. She enjoyed their intimacy, but the Guard was not her place. She needed to feel alive, to feel the life around her, to experience her emotions and thoughts. She needed the hunt, she needed death, risk, blood and solitude. She would travel north and seek out the Dunedain and find her purpose. Without the twins. 

After experiencing the intimate testimony of Tessarion’s feelings for her, connecting with him in a way that she didn’t understand, she felt more balanced now, more at peace. The twins had rejected her, and that was their problem. She could live - and thrive - without them. 

His face softened at her resolve. He knew the truth when he saw it. “It was an honour to have you, Rin. I like your words earlier. Let us agree to disagree.” He smiled and all friction seemed to evaporate. 

He had felt their fea connection strengthen while they were physically intimate, but it was not a bond that would tie them to each other. They would remain close, intimate friends who could share sexual pleasures again should they both desire it, but he could - and would - let her go. 

She smiled, touching his cheeks tenderly and kissing him softly on the lips. “Thank you, taichou-sama. With your help, I am now ready to move ahead on my own.” And it was true. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In his warm study, sitting next to the hearth, Master Elrond stood abruptly, spilling his wine over his wrist and onto the rug. Cursing in Elvish he took quick steps towards the window. Casting a look at the night sky, he frowned in worry. 

Within an unguarded moment, staring into the flames, his mind had wandered aimlessly, until his foresight showed him a flurry of events, moments in time, interconnected but without a beginning or end. 

Fortunately, the moon was not right this night, which gave him ample time to form a strategy. Two days to prevent the four deaths he foresaw. Two days to counter the large orc band that were travelling towards his lands with mad speed. Two days to save his sons and two captains. 

With a quick flick of his wrist he pulled the string that rang the servant bell. Waiting in silence he gritted his teeth, cursing his foresight, dreading the outcome of his next actions, for meddling with that which will come to pass was folly, even for the wisest.


	19. The night was calm but cold, the slight...

Chapter 19 - The night was calm but cold, the slight...

The landscape changed in the waning light. Shapes grew hollow by the shadows that deepened. The growth of dusk was affecting their mood, deepening their growing feelings of unrest and despair, making them barely noticing their surroundings. A perilous situation for two elves in the wilderness. 

Mithroch’s steady pace did nothing to comfort Elladan. His thoughts defied the steady rhythm of the horses’ gait, being in disarray, fleeing here and there. The undercurrent of this chaos, felt like defeat and loss. After all these centuries they had fallen beyond the point of no return. He could see only one way out of this situation with Rin, through pain and death. 

Why had they engaged with her, giving in to their attraction, for so long? Why had they let this bond grow beyond repair? The intense anger and regret made him feel tears behind his eyes. All was lost. His brother was lost to him. He could not see it differently. 

Elrohir suddenly halted in front of him. Mithroch reacted nervously. 

“Tracks, fresh. Three orcs. One warg.” Elrohir’s gruff shortness of speech was a comfort. He had his brother at his side, for now.

On his brothers initiative he unsheathed his sword. They shared a look of concern. So close to Imladris. This was unheard of and it worried them deeply. For a moment they forgot about the situation with Rin, relieved to face danger. 

Elrohir looked back towards the track that they had followed, then he moved his gaze to their front. “Still five miles towards the riverbed. It will be in their advantage when they attack us in there. I fear my energy has not returned yet. How is your hand?” 

Elladan frowned. His brother spoke the truth, the riverbed that they used going north was hidden and cut straight through an impenetrable mass of thorny thicket. Not much room to fight or flee. 

“My hand hurts, but I can fight with the other. Surely we can defeat three orcs and a warg, brother. Worry not. But how can they know of our passageway?” 

Elrohir ignored his question, urging Suldal forward with soft words. Slowly they made their way towards the south. But they kept their swords unsheathed and were on alert for any sign of the enemy. 

Upon reaching the riverbed, the landscape changed slowly. The thicket became more and more dense, rocks and boulders making place for large areas with tough bushes, covered in thorns the branches dense. Wrestling through the landscape until they seemed unable to move forward, the ground suddenly tilted downwards, revealing the empty riverbed.

Their spirits lifted, they sped up through the riverbed, their master’s spirit igniting the horses’ courage. They moved quick and certain, finding less resistance from their surroundings. 

Without warning the warg jumped from the higher sides of the riverbed onto Elladan’s back. It growled while piercing his flesh with his long claws. Elladan shouted at his brother, trying to shrug the creature off, but it clung to his back. In his anger he tried to grab the creature’s head. After a few misses that send fear into the pit of his stomach, he finally got a good hold of it and pulled it with a loud cry over his head forward. Its claws still buried in his flesh, ripped his back open, red hot pain searing through his body. His Elven strength made the creature’s weight only just manageable and with a thud and a crack it hit the ground on its back and moved no more. 

In the sudden silence Elrohir had turned Suldal with difficulty on the small path. Then one orc ran silently from underneath the thicket on the right side and pierced the top of Elrohir’s arm with his ragged sword. The Elf didn’t utter a sound, but his erratic chopping movements with the sword betrayed the fact that he was not well yet, after their last fight. After two failed attempts, he finally managed to kill the creature. Panting he shared a look with his brother, and scanned his surroundings. Two more. 

“Behind you!” Elladan yelled. Two more orcs, appeared. But this time the brothers were more prepared. Elrohir jumped off his horse with a flash, charging them by foot, while Elladan passed Suldal on Mithroch charging them on horseback. The kill was clean and easy and their attention was turned to the warg soon. Lying still on the ground, it was uncertain if it died. 

Elladan dismounted quietly. Both brothers walked stealthily towards the creature. Elrohir poked it with his foot, sword at the ready, but it seemed lifeless. Bending down, he moved to give a final blow with his sword, just to be sure. With a sudden movement the creature leaped up, aiming its gruesome jaws with snapping sounds at his throat. Elrohir’s reflexes kicked in a few seconds too late. He moved to the side, evading the teeth, but was too slow in doing it. The teeth sank in his shoulder, making him cry out. 

A shocked Elladan, pierced the warg’s side with his sword, killing it effectively. In the deathening silence that followed, they could only hear themselves panting, while the situation they found themselves in slowly revealed themselves. 

They were both seriously injured, even if not deep, the wounds were many and they were a days’ ride from Imladris still. They shared a look. They would ride back immediately. Cleaning the wounds was too time consuming. There was no running water around and their supplies not sufficient for good wound care. Only taking time to clean their swords, Elrohir turned Suldal around on the path once again and with careful movements they pushed their painful bodies on their mounts and departed.

Xxxxxxxxx

Elrond’s call was swiftly answered by a lean Elf with brown hair, brown eyes and sharp features. “Master Elrond?” 

Elrond spoke quickly: “Fetch Lord Glorfindel at once. Then alert the remainder of the Guard and let them prepare for battle.”

The Elf looked taken aback, but knew better than to ask questions. He turned on his heels and ran into the dark of the night to execute his masters’ request. 

Elrond strode restless between his study and living room. In his heart he saw but one optional strategy and that meant sending Glorfindel out to aid Tessarion. It was a cruel decision, for Glorfindel might meet his second death. An honorable death it was that he saw, but it was death nevertheless. In defence of Tessarion, already fallen, he was mortally wounded and fell there, on a small battlefield against a large host of orcs. Too many. He shuddered. 

His decision was motivated by hope. Hope that aided by this foresight, Glorfindel would aid Tessarion in time, joining forces. If he acted quickly, their survival rate might be higher. His hope extended towards his sons as well, if the combined Guard could monitor the movements of the enemy and thus alert or aid his sons. 

Elrond closed his eyes for a moment, willing his mind to still. His sons. His children left stubborn and angry for the wilderness and he could not see where their road had taken them. Their reckless behaviour and unaccountability made things worse. They might meet this orc force head on for all he knew. They lived for risks like that. How could he trust them to choose a safe path instead of volunteered suicide? His heart clenched for them and he kept seeing flashes of their deaths, a sight no father should ever witness. His sons’ beautiful bodies, tortured until broken, naked for the carrion birds to feast upon.

Lost in grief, he missed the knock on the door and swirled around in surprise when Glorfindel burst through it, his expression grave. 

The Elf Lord, a flurry of blue, silver and gold, took a quick step forward into the room, “It must be a grave matter, for you to let me be lifted from my bed at this hour…” 

Elrond nodded. 

Glorfindel sighed, raking a hand through his long golden hair, “Just tell me, Elrond.” 

“A large host of orcs and wargs are on the rise. Tessarion and his Guard are in danger. You must ride out to aid them.” 

The frown in Glorfindel’s slender eyebrows, showed disbelief for a moment. 

“How do you know of this? Did your sons return with this intelligence?” 

Elrond looked at him pointedly. Surveying his features, Glorfindel sighed in defeat. “Ah, you have seen it? Tell me, is Tessarion himself in danger?” 

Elrond said nothing but nodded seriously. 

“And what about your sons? They are still in the wilderness, the north I believe?” 

Elrond gritted his teeth, despair shimmered in his eyes and Glorfindel narrowed his eyes at the sight of it. “Even you, mellon nin.” 

Glorfindel’s eyes widened slightly. Then he stood abruptly and gave a courteous bow with his head. “Hantanyel órenyallo*. For telling me.” He remained very calm, for he was too old and too experienced to fear death. But Elrond knew he was disturbed, for he had reverted to Quenya for an unguarded moment. 

“Forgive me for informing you, mellon. But you are the only one who I trust in the matter of my sons and captain’s life.” 

“There is nothing to forgive, Elrond. You are right to have told me. But I fear I cannot give council in this matter. I would give my life to save all three of them, but I cannot foresee the outcome of my actions. I do not possess your gift, Elrond, there is no ring on my fingers.” 

Elrond, Master of Rivendell, looked forlorn for a moment and he felt the weight of his decisions pressing on him. He felt for a moment alone and even scared, something he had not felt for many a century. For a fleeting moment he thought of his wife. What would she have said to him. What would she advise on the faith of her sons? 

Their conversation was cut short by the lean Elf bursting into Elrond’s study. “Master Elrond!” 

Elrond turned towards him and raised his eyebrows.

“Your sons have returned! They seem wounded!” 

Elrond and Glorfindel shared a look. 

“We’d better hear their news.” 

Elrond nodded in agreement and left his chambers in a hurried step towards the healing wards. This feeling of anxiety, he was centuries old, and still this feeling kept being there, in the pit of his stomach when his children were hurt. It was the burden of the parent, to be concerned for children until the end of times. He practically ran down the stairs. Glorfindel following suit. 

xxxxxxxxx

Elrohir sat grimacing while Elrond cleaned the wound on his arm with irritating harsh strokes. 

“Have you no amends to make, after your last parting words!” 

Elladan sat in the corner, his wounds already treated. His clothes were ruined and he sat shirtless, cradling his hand, watching his brother squirm. 

Glorfindel stood, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the scene before him with an unreadable expression. 

“This blade was blunt and rusty.” Elrond spoke without aim into the silence.

Elrohir shrugged stating matter of factly, “It was an orc.” 

Elrond worked further on cleaning the wound, then sewing the edges together. When it was finished, he said: “That should keep it together. Now all that is needed is rest.” 

Elrohir stared at his father in tired defiance. “Why do you bother, father.” 

Elrond’s eyes shot fire suddenly. His rage filled the room within an instant, the air suffocating, his energy and power too large to be contained in such a small space. The twins were taken aback, their stubbornness forgotten for a moment. Only Glorfindel seemed unperturbed. In the silent pressure no angry words were uttered. Elrond just stared at them and stated, “You will clean yourself. Then come to my chambers. I have news.” 

Hs demeanour ruled out any defiance. The twins stared at their father, wondering what got him this riled up. 

When Elrond left, his departure lifting the pressure inside instantly, leaving the twins stunned and troubled. 

Xxxxxxx

The silence was deafening when the door of their quarters fell in its lock. The slightly dusty air, the lack of wind, it felt strange on their skin. The feeling was the same every time they returned here, but now it seemed like agony, inescapable, ever present. An itch that they could not scratch.

Silently and with hesitant feet they walked through the familiar space, but it did not feel like their space. It was an eerie feeling to be facing a room where love and sadness was shared over the years, but the memories seemed cut off from their sense of self at that moment. It was just a space enclosed by walls, filled with some wooden furniture, empty, devoid of meaning. 

After a while, Elrohir stared at Elladan with haunted eyes. When he spoke, his voice was raspy and strange in the empty silence around them. “It is a void in me brother, a void that is ripping my fëa to shreds. The pain is unbearable, even now. We need to heal this wound.” He turned towards Elladan more fully and grasped a lock of his hair, sliding it through his fingers. “If we seek her out, I fear what will come of it, even if we do not have a choice.” 

Elladan felt a tear leave his left eye, caused by emotions that he did not feel, but seemed to overflow his very being nevertheless. He felt strangely detached. 

“I cannot see you hurt. But I cannot fool myself any longer, brother. I will face this fear. I can see it now, clearly in my mind, this corruption that we inflicted upon ourselves. Ada was right.” 

“He is always right. That makes this so hard. But I feel it is time to make amends. Let us seek out his counsel. Let that be our first step.” 

Elladan nodded while his brother embraced him, holding him tightly in his arms. Over his brothers shoulder Elrohir spotted two basins with warm water on the large table, fresh cloth next to it. He hit Elladan on his shoulder blade with the back of his hand. “Come, let us get clean first.” 

He pulled Elladan towards the table and carefully started to undress him with gentle touch. Elladan sighed, relishing the soothing body contact, leaning into him from time to time. 

Dipping the cloth in the basin, rinsing off dirt and blood from his brother’s skin, Elrohir thought on their resolve. He feared Rin’s choice as much as his brother did, but he felt it impossible to deny himself to try and win her heart back again. For the first time in centuries he would act without his brothers’ well-being in his heart. He was at a loss. What should they do? 

He had been staring at his brother’s chest for a while, the cloth unmoving on his stomach. Elladan shook him softly until he saw Elrohir slip back into his mind again. 

“I know what is in your mind brother. We have never ventured the path of competition in this way….” 

Elrohir grabbed a dry cloth. “And what of ada. It will break his heart when we either choose this mortal path or when we sail.” 

Elladan sighed. “We cannot ‘do’ anything but choose to embrace this bond, brother. But the manner in which we proceed might make our path easier or might worsen it. You are right to seek counsel first.” 

“Well, then. Let us consult the wisest of our kind, brother. We owe him to be his sons once more. Let us act the part.” 

Xxxxxxxxx

An hour later, the twins sat at Elrond’s table, cleaned and washed, their hair braided anew with intricate interwoven battle braids. They were clad in a fresh set of dark blue tunics and breeches, their swords ever present on their sides. Their features were calm and reverend. Glorfindel stared at their transformation from petty defiant young elves, into the sons of Elrond, Noldor lords, wisdom upon their brow matching that of their father. 

They had recollected themselves while refreshing in a most marvelous way and they seemed more in balance than when he saw them last. If Elrond noticed, he hid it well and showed no outwards surprise at the change. Glorfindel suspected that the cause of their transformation was that they had come to some kind of conclusion to their predicament of sorts. He hoped for the sake of his Lord that they chose wisely.

A small meal was served, which the twins ate with haste. When they sipped from a glass of wine, fully sated and warm, Elrond came to business. 

“A large host of orcs is descending upon this realm. It seems wrong to call them orcs, for they differ greatly from them, faster, more intelligent. Wargs seem to scout and report to the host, which suggest a level of intelligence unheard of for these beasts. They are making way towards the northern wilderness to my realm, but to other strongholds as well, although those are out of my reach of vision. We need to turn this tide.”

Elladan opened his mouth to speak, but Elrond put up his hand, palm facing him. “I fear that I am in need of your patience for a few more moments.” He fell silent for a moment. Then he looked his sons straight into their eyes. “I have seen in my mind’s eye, four possible deaths of you three and captain Tessarion.” A grave silence fell. 

Elladan had blanched. Elrohir said with gruff voice, “How much is certain?” 

Elrond sighed deeply. “As with all possibilities within my line of vision, I can see them, but not foretell what is going to pass and what not. The possibilities are interwoven moments in time, stories that can or cannot unfold. It is folly to predict any outcome at this point.” 

The twins felt dread filling the pits of their stomachs. Rin was with Tessarion! The realisation made fear materialise inside them instantly. If Tessarion and the Guard were in danger, she would be as well. They shared a look, recognizing the panic and guilt in each other’s eyes. They were responsible for this! They drove her out of Imladris and into the Guard! If she died or got hurt it was their fault and theirs alone! They felt it like a knife cutting through their heart and fëa, tearing the rip in it even further. 

They shared a long and meaningful look. They were at a loss. They could no longer deny their folly, the wisdom in their father’s words upon their previous parting. There was no doubt: their fëa was torn, their skills had become untrustworthy, their minds unbalanced. They were at a loss to their next step. Wanting to confront her, but dreading competing with each other and fearing separation. 

Glorfindel looked at the twins, “Let us discuss what needs to be done to make everybody safe. You have been travelling the lands. Make yourselves useful for a change, what have you seen?” 

Elrohir crossed his arms over his chest while Elladan reported their findings on the strange encounter with the Wargs and the divergent orc breed. They could pinpoint their locations and possible movements in the lands. 

Glorfindel and Elrond asked questions until they were satisfied nothing was missed. 

Then Glorfindel stated bluntly while standing straight, “I will be leaving with the remainder of the Guard to aid Tessarion. To combine forces, might turn this tide of death. Will you come?” 

A silence fell in the room in which the twins observed each other for a moment. Elladan stared at his brother, noticing his pale face and dark hollow eyes. They did not know how to respond. They felt paralysed by the new information that seemed to make their troubles intensify. 

Elrond beheld is sons and was worried. Underneath their newly regained dignity, he saw their pain. The rip in their fëa was evident, as were the mental and physical effects. It was clear they had finally come to some kind of realisation, but were at a loss. Relief washed over him. Their cause was not lost yet. He cast his eyes on his sons, piercing them with inquisitive eyes, willing them to speak. 

Still, Elladan was slow to answer. “We seek your …. counsel father, for it seems your concerns were justified.” The words were heavy in his mouth, like he needed to push up stones through his throat that fell on the table in front of him. 

“Counsel on what matter?” His voice cautious. They had to come forward of their own free will, he would not put words in their mouths. It was important to let them reach their own conclusions. 

“Counsel on our bond with Rin and our damaged fea, ada, as you well know.” It was Elrohir’s dark voice, heavy with irritation over his father’s passive aggression. 

“I will give you counsel, although reluctantly. You know my hesitance on such matters. But first you must tell me this and search your hearts with honesty. Why have you discarded this bond so quickly and with such eagerness? Do you not love her?” 

Elladan said slowly, “We might love her, if we had nurtured our hearts and these feelings. But we have not. For we do not wish to be separated, nor end our current ways.” 

Glorfindel chuckled. 

“Something funny, slayer?” 

Elrond frowned. “You will behave in my house. I will have you not insult Lord Glorfindel!” 

Glorfindel waved Elrond’s irritations away with a flick of his hand, turning towards the twins. “You are wise to seek your father’s counsel. It gladdens my heart. But you speak of denying love and of forced separation and of ending your violent path. But hear me, sons of Elrond, I fear it was she you should have sought out for counsel. For she is wise and might surprise you once you have found her again. She is not what you fear!” 

Elladan turned to his father. “Do you agree with Lord Glorfindel, Ada? Should we seek her out and try to mend this bond?”

Elrond sighed. “I agree with Lord Glorfindel that you should approach this matter humbly. Do not fear her, for it is your own heart that gives you fear. I suspect the nature of this fear, but you have to find out for yourself if that fear is just or that love can take its place.” 

They fell silent. The only sound was the occasional popping from the hearth. Lost in thought they sat, as if in the eye of the storm, waiting for the inevitable. 

Glorfindel broke the silence. “Let us dress for battle then, and hunt some orcs.”

They all stood. Elrohir could not help but grin, a sly foxy grin that spoke of his pleasure in the pursuit of danger. Their father’s visions soon forgotten, there was only Rin and the battle on their minds. 

Almost through the door, the calm voice of Elrond stopped them while Glorfindel walked away, discreetly. 

Elrond eyed his sons wearily and then, without words he embraced them together, holding them tight. His body trembling with emotion. And then after some hesitation, his sons returned the embrace while their father’s voice whispered in their ears: “Namárië..” 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The night was calm but cold, the slight warmth of the sun that had built up during the day had fled towards the clear starry sky. Rin lay on her back next to a small fire, her back on a harsh make-shift bed of dry grass and leaves. With her mantle tightly around her, she stared upwards to the endless depth of the universe. Her thoughts drifted around in her head, following the regular rhythm of the small wisps of foggy breath that drifted upward towards the stars. 

Her intimacy with Tessarion had warmed her body and soul and she felt more in tune with herself than she had in years. Allowing her emotions to simply exist towards Tessarion still surprised her, she had managed to avoid such feelings for years now. Could this bond be the cause of her easy surrender? Was it the partial connection of their souls that had made her embrace her emotions so easily? Her past fear of having a relationship, being bound to anybody did seemed more at the background of her mind. She felt strong in her mind and strong in her relationship with Tessarion. And she did not feel the urge to define it in any way. She had a choice to be free despite emotions. Caring for Tessarion could exist next to being herself, chasing her own goals. She felt liberated. 

She forced her thoughts towards the path that lay before her. What would she do now? Returning to Rivendell seemed ludicrous. What would she be doing there all day? Practicing sword? With no purpose? No. The twins had opened Pandora’s box for her and aimless training seemed like a thing from the past, empty and with no meaning. For the first time since the death of her family she longed for a purpose other than revenge. 

The weight of this revelation pressed upon her while she stared up at the vast black expanse of night. It reminded her of her cycling trips on the island of Hokkaido in autumn. The trees exploded into brilliant colours of red, orange and yellow, filling the land with a warm light. But the best memories there, were of the night sky, lying in her warm sleeping bag, her body dead tired and painful, just staring at the deep universe. Smiling at her memories, she kept staring upwards. The blackness seemed too vast to comprehend and for a moment she felt insignificantly small, a small dot in the infinity of it all. And then another unfamiliar feeling washed over her while she still lay there motionless, staring upwards; she felt a strange sense of belonging. She was part of this world now, for better or for worse and she could have a purpose if she so chose it. And the possibilities seemed endless. 

Making up her mind, she would go north. She would search Aragorn or his relatives and make sure one way or another that he would reach Rivendell save, or that the knowledge of this necessary step in history would be known to his ancestors. She might be centuries ahead for all she knew. Without her knowledge, Elrond’s attention would not have been directed to the Dunedain. She did not believe in faith or destiny, but it seemed a strange coincidence that she was here now, at the start of this epic story of the ring of power. 

Actively travelling north felt like changing her distance and involvement in the events around the ring. By hunting down the Dunedain on purpose, making sure Aragorn would arrive in Rivendell safely, she became willingly part of events that were larger than herself. It felt unnatural to her. She had been alone for years, minding her own business, not taking interest in others, not caring for friends, not caring for relatives, not caring for her body. Just training and waiting for that one day. The one day she would take revenge. Looking back she was shocked by the emptiness of it all. Even her intimacy with Hideo seemed just as empty, devoid of any emotion. 

She suddenly wondered about the twins. Was this how they lived their lives since their mother’s death? Was this the reason for them to not take responsibility for their actions, their realm, or for her heart? The more they felt, the harder they pushed her back it seemed. Thinking of them made her sad. They were lost to her now. Those beautiful brothers. 

A sudden sound and she looked to her side, alerted. It was Tessarion, his mantle around him, walking softly towards her. He sat down next to her, his sword leaning against the inside of his right arm, while she was sitting up to look at him. 

He smiled at her. “You cannot sleep?”

She smiled back. “Too much on my mind.”

“Do you wish to share your thoughts?” 

She sighed. “There is so much in my thoughts that I have trouble aligning all that is useful. I have been contemplating my next step and I feel that I should travel north. Since the twins do not take their responsibilities seriously, it is my intention to seek out the Dunedain, to find Aragorn.”

He nodded, looking up at the sky, deep in thought. He felt surprise and pride at her words. For her to find purpose in events larger than her life, was not what he expected of her so soon. But she was mortal and did not possess the patience of the First Born. He smiled inwardly. She might be adverse to the thought of being changed or healed by him, but now it seemed that she was very capable of healing herself. He would refrain of telling her of course. He felt conflicted, his fëa longed for her to stay for a while at his side. But she did not possess the long years that his kind were burdened with. He would not demand her precious time only to soothe his heart. She had no place on his side. He would have to let her go. 

On impulse he leaned into her and kissed her softly. Her lips were soft and soon responding in kind. When he released her and pulled back, he said, “I will not give you counsel on your path of choice Rin, but I will tell you this: “Your aim is honorable. And I beg you to be careful on your journey there. The lands are not safe.”

His expression became more serious when his thoughts travelled to the orcs that roamed the land in more and more numbers. 

“You will not advise against it?”

Laughing at her, he said, “I care for you, Rin, but I believe you are free to do as you see fit.”

She punched his shoulder with her fist, “You are so right!” 

“It gladdens my heart to see you filled with purpose, mellon nin. I have no riders to spare, and I fear I am not at liberty to decide for an intervention here and now. So instead, let me accompany you for a few miles in the morning. There is a complex network of gorges and rivers, starting just a few miles from here and I wish to make sure you will not get lost.” 

Her heart felt lighter at his request. She did not look forward to the goodbye and was glad that it would be postponed if only for a little while. She nodded at him and squeezed his hand. 

He stared at her with an indecipherable expression on his face. “You will be missed, mellon nin. In more ways than you know…” 

She felt emotion choke her and turned her head from him, fumbling with her mantle. 

“You should get some sleep.” 

Tessarion pushed her softly back on her makeshift bed and kissed her brow. Then he simply sat beside her, casting his eyes on the skies, his fëa in mourning already, dreading the sunrise. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

*I thank you from my heart


	20. The sun rose swiftly and Rin woke to a…..

The sun rose swiftly and Rin woke to a white landscape hidden in dense mist. Tessarion stood a few metres away from her, softly murmuring commands at the waking warriors. The fire was put out, the traces hidden underneath the sand. Horses were being cared for and warriors helped each other with their clothing and weapons. 

Two of them were dishing out breakfast, some dried fruit and some stale baked bread of millet and flour. She ate little, longing with nostalgia for a bowl of hot steaming rice with a raw egg on top, a dash of soy sauce to bring out the flavor. She tried to imagine the creamy comforting taste of it. With a sigh, she chewed on the dry bread, swallowing with effort. 

Her resolve weighing heavy on her stomach, she had not noticed how much noise they were making until they stopped talking altogether, high on alert. She listened intently, but heard nothing. Tessarion motioned towards two warriors who disappeared into the thicket soundlessly. She noticed that Tessarion was not pleased. She frowned. He had put guards up, right? How come the guards had not alerted them? 

Soon they returned, speaking softly to their captain. It seemed nothing was amiss, but she saw the tension in Tessarion’s shoulders and wondered what he knew and kept to himself. 

Soon they mounted their horses, Tessarion instructed his second-in-command, a haughty looking Elf with a complicated name that kept eluding her. He had not spoken with her during their patrol and she suspected he did not speak Westron. 

Most of the Guard mounted their horses and one by one, rode slowly past her, nodding at her, or touching their heart and brow in a parting gesture. The words in soft Elvish eluded her, but it was clear they were saying goodbye. The ones she knew better smiled or touched her hand and arm. And then Raithon and Aien stood before her. She felt emotion choke her and she dismounted quickly. 

The Elves followed her example, and she was enclosed into strong arms, first by Raithon then Aien. “Thank you.” she whispered. “Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for your companionship.” 

Raithon smiled at her. “Likewise dear Rin. We have learned much and enjoyed our time together. May your sword keep you safe.” 

Aien laughed at her teasingly. “And may your wits keep you out of orc dung.” She couldn’t help but laugh at him, glad he lightened their parting with his silliness. 

“Likewise, likewise….” 

Last it was Tessarion’s second-in-command, that stood before her, Naertho, she suddenly remembered. His haughty expression softened slightly when he spoke with a thick accent. “Fare thee well, Rin Shimizu. May your path be an easy one. I hope you find what you seek.” 

She blinked. “I didn’t know you spoke Westron!” she said breathlessly. 

He rewarded her with a small tilt of one of the corners of his mouth. “It is not my habit to talk with mortals. You, though seem….. different. I wish you well.“ 

And with that he turned his horse and rode after the Guard into the mist. 

She was left with Tessarion and two other Elves, called Elaran and Nindr she knew. Tessarion nodded at her while tugging on the last straps on his horse’s back. 

With a reluctant sigh she turned to Bethril and hoisted herself up on the animal. The horse’s breath made small clouds in the morning chill and the warmth in between her legs made her feel at home. Steeling her resolve she turned Bethril towards Tessarion and his companions who were already heading north. 

Xxxxxxxxxx

In the stables, Glorfindel noticed with relief that for once the twins were well-prepared. They had arrived in the busy stables armed to the teeth, only an hour after they said their goodbyes to their father. They were dressed in their normal dark travel clothing, although their mantles were made for cold weather for they were lined with white fur. It was the fur from defeated White Wolves, the ferocious species from the Northern lands and it seemed fitting for the sons of Elrond on what might be their last journey. In addition to their regular swords and knives, they carried a bow, a quiver with arrows and to his relief a shield. It seemed they took their resolve seriously. 

Was there still hope for them? 

Elrond seemed to dismiss hope as of late, at least in concern for his sons. But a small voice inside himself, would occasionally tell him that hope was ever present, in the most unlikely places or situations, evoked by the most unlikely people. He smiled to himself. Yes, there was hope after all… 

The twins acknowledged their captain with a small nod. The warriors gave them strange looks, for it was rare when the sons of Elrond would venture out with the Guard, but they were ignored pointedly. 

They greeted Mithroch and Suldal with few words and soft caresses. The simple joy of the animals at their sight warmed their hearts and they felt the familiar anticipation before travelling to the wild. 

Saddling the horses took a toll on their physique. They had fooled their father by acting out during his treatment, pretending that pain wasn’t there, hiding the more severe parts of their wounds. Wounds that limited their ease of movement now, it seemed. The strain that caring for the horses had on their muscles made them almost nauseous, but they did not show it to the others. So they worked until they were ready to lead the horses out of the stables. 

But there was no fooling Glorfindel. Their old mentor had stared at them, understanding immediately how bad their state really was. In the dim light, he noticed their stiff movements and pale skin. Their injuries were more severe then they let on. He sighed. He would live with it. The situation was too desperate to complain and confront them for their recklessness. He needed their skills in battle for this. 

Assessing his Guard, he counted the heads of his warriors, three ellith among them. His heart clenched. He saw them as equals generally, but his male heart could not help but feel responsible for sending women to this gruesome battle. But he would not respect them when he chose to leave them behind, and they would tell him that and make his life a living hell should he survive. He sighed. There was no time for softness in a warrior’s life. They chose this path. He would trust they were capable of staying alive. 

xxxxxxxxx

Rin was riding in a trance. After many kilometres, it seemed that instead of moving forward, the dark grasslands were rolling underneath her, the endless starlittered dome slowly mimicking that movement towards the same direction. It was an unnerving sensation. The darkness made her world seem small, as if the land was created before her and disappeared behind her into a great dark mouth swallowing everything. 

A dark mouth? The turn in her thoughts surprised her. They seemed to dive into a negative spiral on their own. Could she blame it on her mental distress of leaving Tessarion and the Guard? Or was her soul in pain, being separated from a kindred one? 

Her mind travelled towards her departure. She had followed Tessarion with care. Bethril had some trouble with the rocky surface of the gorge that they were following. Behind her Elaran closed the rear. Somewhere behind her line of sight she knew rode Nindr, an energetic Elf that made her laugh often, with his silly jokes. In contrast with his jesting nature, he was an expert scout and could be vigilant and silent as a cat. He knew the lands and the animals by heart and could pass these lands blindfolded if need should be. 

The rocky walls that were closing in on them had a reddish teint, that she imagined would glow beautifully in the setting sun. But instead the mist made the color faint and uncertain. Sounds were bouncing off the walls that towered above their heads, and the echoes that followed disappeared in the thick mist as if absorbed by cotton. 

She had understood Tessarion’s concern then. The maze that they were moving through, was a treacherous network of quick passing waters and steep walls. If she would meet the enemy here, she would be done for, but she could just as easily get lost and starve to death. She had felt grateful for his presence and guidance. 

The twists and turns seemed endless, the path to take often unclear or hidden. The natural beauty of nature around them humbled her into silence. Elves moved certain and with confidence, there was no hesitation, no pauzes. They were at home here. This was their realm and she felt faintly jealous of their belonging. 

They travelled until early afternoon when the ground in between the rock formations slowly descended towards more open terrain. She could not see far, for a sea of low hills obscured the view, but it felt very exposed, with only here and there clusters of boulders to hide. She knew where these rolling hills would end. She calculated that it was a week of riding before she could see the first hints of the northern mountains. 

And now, she was here, on the large and open grass plains, thundering towards the north as if pulled by the magnetic core of the mountains that were lying invisible in the darkness. She thought back to their goodbyes. 

“This is where we must part, we will not travel beyond the borders of our realm. You can find your way more easily in these lands.” The words of Tessarion shook her from her reverie, staring at the road that she would take. 

She had nodded silently. 

Elaran and Nindr had turned their horses, riding slowly past her. They both had grasped one of her shoulders, squeezing slightly in a silent goodbye and rode past her viewpoint back into the myriad of canyons. 

And then she was alone with him. That gorgeous Elf. His beautiful warrior physique, his perfectly carved features, his kindness. It all felt unreal for a moment, this goodbye. Was she going through with this? 

Tessarion had stared at her, impassive, but his eyes betrayed his sadness. They both dismounted, walking towards each other. Feeling his body warmth, she stared up at him, taking him in for a few fleeting moments. Then she closed the distance and embraced him, laying her head on his chest. 

He enveloped her into his arms resting his head on top of hers, slowly breathing in her scent. They stood there for it felt like an eternity. Then Tessarion lifted her head with his hand underneath her chin and dipped towards her to capture her lips. The kiss was sweet, intense and full of passion. It was over too soon. 

Then he released her and stepped backwards, creating a distance that she had felt physically, like a dagger in her heart. 

She felt tears brimming in her eyes. A whispered “Tessarion….” escaped her lips. 

She heard: “Shhhhh….” 

He kissed her brow, “Bain nîn*…”

He kissed her cheekbone, “Maethor nîn*...” 

His breath traced her skin and his lips found her mouth, “Melleth nîn*….” 

When he stepped back for the second time, he doubled the distance, while adding wistfully: “My mind tells me this journey will bring you wisdom. But my fëa is mourning your departure. I will miss you Shimizu Rin. May the Valar keep your path clear of danger. Be safe.” 

She had to swallow and force herself not to cry. “I will.” she could only whisper. Her last words took all her courage to say out loud, but she felt it was important to tell him what she felt. She had trouble looking him in the eye, so she stared at the ground when she uttered her words. “Tessarion….. thank you for showing me that love can be a sanctuary, a freedom, instead of a prison or a door towards fear…. arigatou gozaimasu...” She had bowed to hide her emotions from him. 

His wise eyes had widened slightly in understanding. And soon they showed gentle admiration, supported by a tender smile. 

To her great relief, he had not asked her what she meant. He understood. And no more words were necessary. 

“Namárië” he said, holding up his hand for a moment, palm facing her. A gesture of formal goodbye. 

He mounted his horse then. And rode past her, towards the gorges. He did not look back. 

From there she had rode further north. A great weight was lifted from her heart and head, being replaced by euphoria. And for a while the adventure lured her into happy spirits, a high above anything she experienced before. She felt free at last.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The search for the other Guard had taken longer than expected. Glorfindel sat in his saddle like a rigid reed, biting the inside of his cheek. Loose strands of golden hair danced around his face on the rhythm of the wind. An ever present witness of the turmoil in his mind, it was unheard of that he forgot to braid his hair! The urgency and vigilance that he felt, radiated through the warriors and their horses, making their animals fretful and the warriors on high alert to the point of plain out nervousness. 

The sons of their Lord rode in the rear, silent and brooding. Their appearance in the stables was greeted by few with enthusiasm and caused confusion and suspicion for others. They were a rare sight on patrol. Their behaviour was too unpredictable and selfish to earn respect from the Guard as a whole. Their reputation of repeated neglect of their responsibilities connected to their lineage and birthright, made them a threat to the safety of their realm. A realm the Guard had vowed to protect at all cost. So there was apprehension and mistrust. These negative feelings were caught into a downwards spiral fuelled by the dark mood the twins were in. Nothing good would come of this.

Glorfindel felt it keenly for a moment. The darkness of two broken fëa’s brooding at the rear and his own turmoiled fëa at the front and his warriors stuck in between. He took a deep breath. This would not do. He was Captain of the Guard, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, he was Slayer of the Balrog. And like a cloak he wrapped himself in his power. For the warriors in his wake it seemed as if the sun had suddenly broken through and was shining through him, gold and warm. His face became fair and young and fearless and full of joy. His eyes bright and clear, wisdom sat on his brow and strength ran through his limbs. He shouted in the wind, kicking Asfaloth forwards storming towards the horizon. His clear voice made the warriors sit up straight, laughing again, urging their steeds to follow their Captain with renewed spirit. 

In the rear the twins felt it too, as if a warm sun penetrated their cold minds and bodies with difficulty. Their minds had been wandering towards dark and evil things. Rin’s safety was their concern, and their failure at keeping her safe, had kept feeding their guilt and fear, until there were no other thoughts in their minds. 

They knew what Glorfindel was doing now and why. Elrohir relished his powers like a blanket in the cold. Elladan smiled at his brother, a tiny shard of hope in his eyes. And Elrohir could understand it. Yes. Yes! There was hope, still. Not all was lost. And they tagged along the group, swiftly and silently, anticipation running through their veins like hot liquid, their injuries forgotten for a moment. 

xxxxxxxx

When Tessarion’s Guard came into view, it took Glorfindel a few heartbeats for his brain to catch up with his eyes. It was a mess of bodies, animals and movement. Sounds of clattering weapons filled the air, accompanied by sharp cries. Shields caught the sun and flashed. Startled he stopped Asfaloth with one quick word, taking the battle, for that was what it was, in. And he did not like what he saw. 

This was not a battle, it was a massacre! The Guard was surrounded by a much larger battle force of vicious looking orcs and wargs. He saw glimpses of elves that fought for their life, barely managing. And to his dismay he saw between orc legs, the broken bodies of warriors on the ground. There was no room for glory hunger, no respite for cool rational warfare, this fight was brought down to mere survival. His eyes scattered all over the battlefield, and then on the farthest side he glimpsed Tessarion, holding his position against a warg and a large orc. Glorfindel felt a cold rage take hold of him. 

He raised his sword silently in an effort to keep his mind clear and to signal his Guard. He hoped that Tessarion would spot them in his arduous situation, but dared not make noise, since an opportunity to surprise the enemy should never be wasted. His anger fuelled his power within an instant. He could feel his Guard becoming still and alert, ready and eager to plunge into the battle and save their kin. 

And then he lurched forward on Asfaloth at great speed, the feel of the massive group of warriors behind him propelling him even faster. And like a wave crashing onto the shore, they dived into the battle with vigour. The collision brought an explosion of sound, movement, and blood. And then the movement stilled within the writhing mass of bodies, there was no room to manoeuver, everything was cramped and desperate. 

Glorfindel’s power penetrated this mass like a sword, orcs and wargs alike cowering in fear for the Elf Lord in his wrath, his light too bright for them to bear. Glorfindel used this momentum to reach for Tessarion, cutting through the battlefield like a knife through butter. His heart ached in sudden fear, while his warriors crashed shields and swords into their enemies. He had lost his view of his friend. Where was he! 

Elladan and Elrohir had followed in Glorfindel’s wake. They knew desperation when they saw it. They knew most of these men, some intimately, but their only thoughts were of Rin when they entered the battle wrapped in their power and filled with rage. Their fear and concern combined with the strange warmth radiating from enemy flesh and the smell of blood was a familiar setting and within the blink of an eye they were transported back to that dark day they rode out to save their mother. 

The powerful flashback made them falter and their world slow down. The desperation of that event in their past, aligned itself with the present, taking the fragile hope that was held up by Glorfindel’s light into a downward spiral towards that dark moment in time. They had never spoken of their rampage into the enemies den to their father. Nothing about the sheer desperation that made their pain ease just enough to keep them functioning. That rampage had been the moment they exchanged their purpose for another. Nothing else mattered but to get her back and take their revenge for the consequences of her imprisonment and torture. They denied their heritage and life itself, only accepting death, suffering and revenge. It was a one-way path toward the roots of the mountains and their eternal darkness, a suicide mission to bring her back into the light or die trying. 

The flashback lifted as quickly as it had captured them and they shared a knowing look. Silver grey met silver grey. For the first time in centuries, their one-way road on the downward spiral seemed slightly different. They had confided in their father, sought out his help. They had admitted to themselves that they reached the end of their headstrong resolve. For the first time in centuries, they found themselves in uncharted territory. And the only way forward seemed to be straight through this battle to find her. Their war goddess. They did not know what lay in their future, death or fading, pain, sorrow, or even some form of happiness? But they would accept whatever change finding her would bring them. They felt a shred of hope, although it was still a hope undefined and aimless. And with a small nod, they focussed on the fight with their body and mind, surrendering to the violence, adapting to it and riding it. But their fëa concentrated on finding that other one, the only one that mattered to them. Where was she?

It was a tangle of bodies, sprays of blood, stench of guts, the metallic taste of rusty weaponry, the earthy smell of animals. The sons of Elrond were a sight to be seen in their might, for their fear and teared fëa unleashed their power without control, dancing around them like liquid chaos. And where their Lord Glorfindel was like the sun, the sons of Elrond used their raw uncontrolled power like a counterweight, pushing at the darkness. The warriors of Tessarion’s Guard welcomed the sight with relief and hope, to have their Lords’ aid at this most desperate of times, no matter how unconstrained. 

Still the additional reinforcements did not decide the battle so easily. The orcs were vicious, harsh, intelligent, their wargs likewise. The range within individual battles was too close for comfort. Room to move a sword properly was non-existent. Within this close range, the weight of the opponent was a dangerous weapon. The twins found that there was no time to reflect on small victories, because others were filling the empty place as quickly as water. Within each momentum they scanned the ground underneath, fearing to see a mob of ink black hair, but they never saw it, nor did they feel her fëa. Where was she? 

Tessarion fought with his last strength, facing a more skilled enemy then he could remember fighting for centuries. It took all his creativity and cunning to keep alive. There was no room to move. Bodies were trapping the reach of his sword. Fallen bodies made him stumble. The stench of guts and blood was so intense that, combined with his fatigue, it was distracting him. The wargs kept attacking in succession making him wary, exhaustion slowing his moves. 

Still he dominated his part of the battlefield. His fallen enemies were littered across the ground around him. Lord Tessarion, Captain of the Guard was a formidable enemy to face in battle and the orcs’s courage was fuelled by numbers while fighting this Elflord. They kept attacking in multiple pairs. And now two wargs and one orc were left and Tessarion had run out of energy. The wargs were wearing him out, slowly but surely. For a mortal eye Tessarion’s movements would be too fast for eyes to follow, but the orcs were not mortal and they saw. They saw each hesitation, each small tremble and like sharks in the ocean smelling blood, they smelled weakness. 

Glorfindel noticed a shift in dynamics around him. Ploughing through the battle on his horse he was slowly but surely maneuvered towards the side of the battle by the sheer mass of bodies. Tessarion’s braided head was disappearing in the writhing mass. He cursed, jumping to the ground, smacking his horse on his hindeside. “Norolim, Asfaloth!” he cried. The horse leaped away from the battlefield towards relative safety and he felt satisfied. When in need, a single call would be answered by the loyal steed without hesitation. Relieved from his concern for the horse he focussed his mind towards his friend. Gripping his sword with two hands, he plunged himself back into the battle, not heavy with power this time, but silent and unseen and with purpose. 

Mowing down enemies with lightning speed, he soon was forced to work with his long dagger due to the closeness of the fights. Flashes of the elven warriors around him, made him grip his dagger even stronger. They were on the turning point, they needed to end this quickly or Tessarion’s warriors would be overrun and beyond saving. But he needed to make sure their captain was safe first, lest Elrond's prophecy would come to pass. 

Finally to his relief he spotted Tessarion close by, but the state he seemed in made his heart stop. Tessarion was visibly cursing, cornered by a warg and two orcs. His shoulder seemed seriously hurt and bleeding, hanging limp from his side, his sword arm Glorfindel realised to his dismay. His demeanor was one of exhaustion, the orcs had deliberately worn him out. After all these long years of servitude for this realm, he had never seen his friend in this particular dangerous tipping point. This was Tessarion, his relentless and ruthless counterpart. No mercy for his enemies nor his warriors and least of all for himself. And here he was, at the end of his physical and mental reserves. And Elrond’s premonitions crashed into Glorfindel with renewed actuality. 

Slicing a rather large and limping orc down with a powerful blow, Glorfindel had almost reached his friend. But it seemed that the progress he made would not make any difference, he knew with utmost certainty that he would not be able to reach his friend in time. As if the mere thought was instigating reality, Tessarion’s enemies seemed to gain upper hand. With a blinding reflection his sword was wrenched from his fingers, his dagger already long gone. Glorfindel felt himself blanch at the sight. No! No! This was not meant to pass! 

The warg that jumped at him was too close for comfort, its death like breath caressing his face, its teeth grazing his face until blood was drawn. In a reflex, Tessarion gripped its bottom jaw with his hand, squeezing with his immortal strength, forcing the animal’s head down. He was desperate and in his panic, adrenaline rushed through him. Quick as lightning he pushed his foot on its neck with all his might, effectively breaking the animal's neck while pulling its jaw out of its head. The movement made him evade the heaving blow of a sword over his head by lucky chance, the orc of its making cursing loudly when it hit his companion. 

Agile as a cat Tessarion rose to face his two attackers, wondering how he could survive without weapons. One orc was cursing a wound inflicted by his companion, the other, its black eyes battle crazed, raised his sword for a final blow, that would end him surely. This was not happening! He should be saving his warriors! Not failing them! 

Then a shout reached him and he instinctively understood its meaning, searching frantically for a flash of metal. Within the blink of an eye, his raised hand gripped the cold heaviness of a perfectly balanced sword. Vaguely he realised he knew this sword. A flicker of hope ran through him. But it was too late! The enemy sword was already descending upon him. He gripped the sword with unease in his non-sword arm. There was no room for him to lift his new weapon. Panic gripped him. Then a flash memory hit him like a rock - Rin teaching him her strange but effective moves of defence. And within the blink of an eye, he moved slightly to the side in a desperate attempt to evade the sword. Within this movement he managed to turn his sword in his hand until he handled it in reverse grip. With effort he pulled it upwards, effectively carving a large and deep deadly gash, through the orc with his inhuman strength. 

His brief moment of victory, was soon clouded by a sharp invasive pain from his side. Within a haze he realised the other orc had managed to cut his side with its dirty blade. He pivoted towards it, swinging his sword with all his might, the fatigue making him turn too far to see the results. But to his relief it worked, judging from the devastating and piercing howl that hurt his ears. The orc was rendered useless and lost its courage when confronted with a bleeding but seething Elflord. Cowardly it disappeared into the battle.

Blinking confused Tessarion stared blindly around him, alert for more attacks. For a small moment he was left in peace, enough time to regain his breath. Something was off. His thought wandering back towards the sword in his hand. That shout. It had been in Quenya! He lowered his gaze towards the weapon in his hand and with effort what he saw made sense. For the second time, hope flared and his eyes searched around him. 

Sounds were waning and increasing at the same time it seemed. His vision came in short sequences, seemingly apart from each other, not quite forming a clear flowing story. He realised that it had been a too narrow escape from death. He could not remember the last time he felt its clutches this close to his being. His mind and body were in disarray. Exhausted, his mind had trouble knitting the flashes of images around him together. But his eyes were suddenly glued to a familiar golden color not three metres away. Soundless the battle seemed for a moment, until vision and thought collided with force. Glorfindel! Relief flushed through him until he noticed his surroundings more. 

One of his warriors, Raithon he believed, was fighting on the left of him. Wounded in the shoulder and a large gash on his forehead, blood running over the side of his face. An orc was pushing with his jagged sword against the smooth elven blade that he kept in front of him with bent elbows. Tessarion saw the white of his knuckles where he held the hilt, his other hand flat halfway against the blade, the stance of his legs showing the sheer force that was needed to keep the orc sword at bay. He would not hold out long, he was exhausted as well and almost collapsing under the weight of his opponent. 

Tessarion raised Glorfindel’s sword to measure his strength. Then without hesitation he stood and aided his warrior by slicing through the orc’s head, an explosion of blood and flesh. There was no time to marvel or rest, he turned towards another, the adrenaline of the battle giving him strength once more. 

Then he turned towards the flash of gold. He beheld Glorfindel’s light, the warmth of his fëa soothing his own. The Elflord was fighting seriously and magnificently, fluid like a dancer, agile and deadly, each strike ignited by his power, like only the warriors of old could. For a moment he was watching the stunning beauty of Glorfindel’s fighting in absolute admiration. And then he saw disaster happening. Out of the writhing mass of bodies, a large orc came running from the right side. He was quick and light of foot, soundlessly he emerged out of the tangle of fighters. Running with purpose towards Glorfindel’s back, while his attention was fully on the many orcs he was fighting in front of him. Sword raised for a killing blow. His friend would be skewered in seconds, and there was no one else to intervene. The future of Imladris was at stake, as Glorfindel formed the heart of the realm’s defences. His death would have devastating consequences in their continued fight against the encroaching darkness.

The world narrowed down for Tessarion. Within a split second he made his decision. He leaped forward and threw himself in between his friend and certain death. The sword that was meant for the golden lord penetrated just below his chest, the weight of the creature, pushing the blade home. The metal was sharp and strangely cold. Glorfindel cried out while swirling around, beheading the orc but giving it no second glance. He was just in time to catch Tessarion, shouting his name, while he fell through his knees. 

Tessarion blinked confused and peered owlishly at the sword sticking out above his belly button, the metal present in his flesh like a fact. He felt his knees shake, warm blood flowing out of his side and belly, like warm bath water. For a moment the feel of blood on his skin invoked the feeling of kneeling in Zeale’s blood on that hateful day. And then his knees gave out, crashing into the cold ground. Sound became just as blurry as his vision. Zeale’s eyes met his, squinting in pain. He expected the sword blade being pulled out, but that agony never came. He smelled his own blood. Sweat and fear. Rin’s sweet perspiration. Then metal. And finally the pain, crashing into him. This battle was lost and he had failed them. His hands tightened into fists, clawing at the grass beneath him. As if his pain invoked a secret force, the battle seemed won soon after and silence fell on the battlefield. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Glorfindel knelt next to Elladan and Elrohir on the battlefield. Their faces grim, silent witnesses of the pain and final moments of Lord Tessarion, Captain of the Guard of Imladris. It seemed ironic to Elladan and Elrohir, that they were here together. Four deaths ada saw, and only one had come to pass. For now. It would have been Tessarion. The thought was turning and twisting in their mind since Tessarion sacrificed his life to save that of Glorfindel. They had meddled with the fates knowingly. Three deaths had been prevented at a terrible cost. It would have been Glorfindel, were it not for Tessarion. And what would come to pass still, out here in the wild? Was Tessarion’s death in vain and would fate have its way with them? 

Elladan and Elrohir noticed the warriors that were not busy tending the wounded, assembled around them, some weeping, some staring silently downwards at their respected and much loved captain. The sight was gruesome to the twins, the blood of one of their own kin, apart from their own, was rarely spilled, death came even more rare. And to see their old mentor, broken on the battlefield wrenched their hearts. So sudden was the feeling that there was no time to think of other emotions like revenge or anger. 

Tessarion had been an immutable part of their youth and upbringing. He had cared for them when they were elflings, comforted them when they hurt, trained them harshly and without mercy, taught them many knowledgeable things on nature, tracking, hunting. Their bond went from close to distant in the past centuries. He did not approve of their ways and they did not care for the estrangement that it caused. But seeing him here, broken on the battlefield, time had irrevocably run out. There was no time for reconciliation. And to their own surprise they felt grief and… regret. 

Tessarion’s sharp face was pearly white, his lips had a bluish hue. His eyes fluttered open, staring at the twins as if he did not recognize them for a moment. Glorfindel was reaching out with his fëa towards his friend, trying to sooth his final moments. Tessarion turned his head towards him in wonder at the feeling of his fëa washing over him. “Laurefindil…. hantanyel, meldo…” The Quenya words were a touch of home, the twins knew, for it was an old connection they shared. Glorfindel smiled, then he became grave, his features clouded by grief. “Please do not thank me, it should not have been you…” 

Tessarion stared at him knowingly. “What did Elrond see?” 

“Four deaths, me, you and his sons.” he inclined his head towards the twins. 

Elladan, voicing both his and his brothers’ concern, said softly: “What happened, Tessarion?” 

His words sounded raspy, his voice broken by pain. "After escorting Rin through... the maze ... we headed to the foothills... the air felt wrong...found warg tracks. Then they attacked... seemed to ...came out of nowhere. Tracked our ….. movements without being….. seen."

The twins stopped breathing for a moment. So, she was not dead, at least she was left alive somewhere in this realm or just outside of it. Relief flooded through them. “And where is Rin now?” The question was heavy with concern and Tessarion focussed his eyes with effort on Elrond’s son. 

“You dare ask of her? …...Is that why you have come ……. to our aid? Even …..in times of high need, your ways are……. ambiguous.”

The severity of his words hit Elladan in his core, when the truth came crashing into him. They had fought only to find Rin, they had searched for her on the ground and within the battle. Any trace of her, like starving madmen, they had fought for any sign of her. Now, and only now, he realised he could have maybe prevented Tessarion’s death. If he had cared. And the severity of that thought sent him reeling. Was he guilty of Tessarion’s death? He glanced at Elrohir and knew he had the same realisation, his jaw tightening and eyes moving too much. A quiet glance to gain inner strength, brother to brother, and Elladan turned to his old mentor. 

“It is.” Elladan said quietly. “But I feel … shameful… to speak of this now. I….” 

Tessarion said softly: “Do not venture on the path of guilt now sons of Elrond. I have made my choice, you could not have prevented it……” he ground out a sharp gasping sound, grasping his abdomen with one hand. Panting he continued...“Gather your wits…. She travels north…. the mountains…..see her safe….. this battle….. only the first of ...many.” 

Elladan looked angry. “You let her go alone?” 

Tessarion’s eyes spat fire, his anger fuelling his energy to speak, although with a soft voice: “She has regained her purpose in life. I was not the one that willingly endangered her mortal soul. I merely helped her find her bearings after your dangerous games. She survived your antics and she has found herself still capable of embracing love nevertheless. I have tried to heal her instead of trying to pull her down the path of useless revenge.” he gasped for breath. “Be thankful that she was not here, I could not have guaranteed her safety in this battle…….. Although she is a force to be reckoned with in battle. …….It was her reverse grip sequence …….that made me survive long enough to save Glorfindel.” 

Glorfindel looked taken aback. So he owed his life to Rin. That was most interesting. He did not share his Lords’ foresight, but he could see how Rin’s presence in their midsts was like a stone cast in water, causing ripples that reached far and wide. “It is curious that her presence should be interwoven with our fates like this. It seems that she is entwined with Elrond’s foresight in a manner that is beyond my knowledge.” 

They fell silent for a moment, deep in thought, for Glorfindels’ words rang of truth, even though its meaning eluded them for now. After a while Tessarion said softly: “She is like a fresh mountain wind in spring, bringing change.” 

He started coughing severely, blood dripping from his mouth suddenly. A bad sign. 

His words caused a wave of emotions in the brothers. Elladan felt his brother shift uneasily. What was Tessarion saying? Had she fallen in love with a warrior of his band? With Tessarion himself? Jealousy reared his ugly head, a familiar feeling when Rin was involved, but now it caused bile in his throat. Had they lost her truly? It seemed strangely righteous. For a fleeting moment he thought it would make things easier for them. If their fëa were doomed, they could end it how they wished it to end. He closed his eyes for a moment. The dark thoughts fleeing at the sight of his broken mentor lying in his own blood. 

“We have come to make amends to her, if such a thing is still possible.” he sighed in defeat. “We are at a loss.” 

Tessarion blinked. So there was hope for them still, he could feel their damaged fëa and they seemed to realise the severity of it. He couldn’t help but smile. These brothers were in for a rough ride, if he knew Rin only a little. She would let them suffer. He spoke again, his energy fading quickly. “Find her….protect her, die for her if you must. Love her. For me.” 

Emotion suddenly choked his voice until the last words squeezed out. Elrohir watched him knowingly, hurt and jealousy in his eyes which he did not hide. But Tessarion did not care. He was leaving this realm, he felt his fëa loosening already. 

Elrohir nodded, already moving to stand. But Tessarion grasped his arm with more force than seemed possible for a dying elf. “Do not give in to your fears…...” 

Elrohir nodded solemnly, another emotion visible in his eyes, for it was clear Tessarion was fading quick. The blood underneath him grew steadily into a dark red pool, he was bleeding out steadily. Elrohir thought about his fear. He did fear love, as did his brother. He was uncertain how to stop. But before he could react, Tessarion had turned his head to look at his warriors that were gathered around them. He gave them all a penetrating look, nodding at them, whispering silent words of gratitude and honour. And then his gaze rested on Glorfindel whose light seemed to darken into a warm yellow sunset. Tessarion hand searched for his and Glorfindel grasped it, holding it forcefully. Tessarion whispered: “It was an honour my friend.” 

Glorfindel smiled, his eyes brimming with tears. “Indeed, it was an honour. And so much more.” 

Tessarion smiled until he coughed more severely this time, blood still pooling from his abdomen and mouth. When he regained his breath, pain was haunting his features. He squeezed out: “Laurefindil, meldo...Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier***….” 

Glorfindel felt emotions come up so fast it made him nauseous. He knew that sentence and realised their meaning. And he wept staring his friend into his eyes. Then he slowly recited the two last sentences of the song. His voice was rich and the melody gulfed over the battered warriors who had all now assembled around their fallen Captain, weeping or just bending their heads in grief. 

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.  
Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!****

While the melody conjured up images of the white shores behind the sea that he longed for, Tessarion’s thoughts travelled to Zeale at the last lingering tones. It was finally time to see her once again. And his heart rejoiced. Closing his eyes, Lord Tessarion, Captain of the Guard of Imladris, drew his last breath and died a warrior’s death on the battlefield, while his guard and friends mourned his passing, pouring out their grief and emotions while finding comfort in the memory of the Golden Woods. . 

*My beautiful, my warrior, my friend   
** Go now before it is too late  
*** The years have passed away like swift draughts  
**** Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!


	21. Rin’s euphoria over her new found freedom, lasted…

Rin’s euphoria over her new found freedom lasted two days. The more kilometres Bethril created between her and her beloved captain, the more her thoughts became dark and depressed. Ideas became invasive, memories repeated themselves, the future seemed pale and uncertain. Now matter how hard she tried to keep her thoughts positive, they reverted back into old beaten down paths, grinding them down even further. 

The wind in her face made her remember cycling through the woods of Japan at night. The loneliness of her life in Japan crept up on her. Nao emerged in her mind, her beautiful face contorted in pain. The cadence of Bethril seemed to evoke her again and again. Tessarion’s goodby made her feel sadness as if it would drown her. And then she thought of the twins and their harsh breakup, and it hurt all over again. 

She shook her head to clear her mind. The pull of these thoughts was like a dark force. But she needed to fight that darkness. Rivendell was not for her without the twins at its core. She did not have the right mind to fit as a warrior in the Guard. She was reforging her purpose here in this world, she would find Aragorn and bring him to safety, or at least find out if he was born yet. Alien and invasive as they might be, these bonds, she could live with the pain of parting perfectly fine! And with a smile she urged Bethril even faster through the darkness. 

On the third day when the darkness had already fallen, she felt something strange inside her happening. As if a tout pulled string suddenly snapped. It was sudden and felt strange. A feeling that she only noticed now it fell away, leaving a strange emptiness inside of her, that caused her heart to thump loudly. She stopped Bethril abruptly, panting in the night. 

This world made her feel alien things. She had never experienced anything like this in her life. The intensity of it made her gasp. She did not believe in otherworldly powers, magic or souls. But here in Middle Earth, those beliefs seemed laughable. The very air she breathed seemed to be altering her subtly, changing her thoughts and her beliefs. Was this real? But she could not deny it, yes this was real. No matter how alien it seemed, there was a psychic or emotional connection possible with elves. And it manifested itself into something physical. She marvelled at it, at the possibility and beauty of it. But now, she cursed the confusing effects as well. 

On instinct she turned her horse towards the direction she had come, staring into the growing darkness, her eyes desperately trying to hold onto something in the emptiness. And then she realised it was Tessarion. Somehow she had made a connection with him and now that connection was gone. She gasped.

Why was it gone? Throwing overboard her scepticism on all things preternatural, she focussed with all her might on him. She sent out her thoughts and feelings towards him, into the pitch black darkness. There! She felt him suddenly again, a tiny flicker in the darkness, the string tightening again slightly. He was so far away from her, but his light was like a small beacon.

She gripped Bethril’s manes with her fists, startling the horse, her body bending forward, until she lay flush with Bethril’s neck. The warmth of the animal eased the strangeness in her chest somewhat. Knowing what she felt, did not explain why she felt it. What is going on? Is Tessarion in trouble? Or is this the pain of two fëa’s parting? Did they feel this when they left me? 

The flickering continued. She sat up straight, staring into the darkness once more. Forcing her eyes to see something, anything, reaching out with her thoughts. And then, as suddenly as it emerged, the feeling just left her altogether, hollow and empty. 

She sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness in disbelief, until Bethril grew restless. Then panic gripped her by the throat. Tessarion. He was no longer there, his fëa was gone! The panic would not ease, she knew deep within her heart what this meant, although her mind could not accept it yet. 

Another thought hit her. What could kill a mighty warrior like Tessarion? He had survived centuries of warfare and skirmishes. What had happened that he of all elves had fallen? It was no doubt an enemy force unlike anything they knew! 

Death was a constant companion in her life, comforting, heart shattering, mind numbing. It felt like yesterday when she had hated death with all her heart, but had to embrace it nevertheless for it was inevitable and ever present. And she welcomed it now reluctantly, getting acquainted with its unforgiving coldness once more. There was no escape. Not for her. Not for the ones she loved. She blinked away the image of her sister falling. At least she could admit it now. Love. And she cried and cursed that she was still capable of such feelings for the pain brought her almost to her knees in agony. 

She thought carefully while her anger set in. Tessarion did not deserve to die, not her beloved captain. She knew that the Guard had to stay within the boundaries of Rivendell, but not so their enemies. If they were pursued by the rest of the Guard and crossed the border, they would be free. Unpunished. She thought darkly. She could not bear the thought of injustice once more, where murderers got off without any fitting retribution, being from a judge or an executioner. But she was not bound to the rules of the Guard. She would not rest until Tessarion was avenged. 

And after this deliberation, she turned to re-traced her path. The need to see him once more was overwhelming. To touch his body one last time, to trace the flesh that had warmed hers not so long ago. To kiss his cold lips. To honour the magnificent shell that housed his great spirit and give it the honour it deserved. 

And when she had said her goodbye, she would track down his enemies and quench her thirst for revenge. 

Xxxxxxxx

The silence on the battlefield was deafening. Lord Glorfindel stared around shellshocked. The silence stood in stark contrast to the chaos of dragging dead orcs towards a heap to be burned, caring for wounded warriors or paying respect for the fallen ones. Some animals needed to be finished off to end their suffering and Glorfindel closed his eyes, saying a silent thanks to the Valar that Asfaloth was safe. 

Tessarion’s hand was in his still. He noticed its stillness even while he was assessing the damage on the guard. A sleeping hand would feel relaxed, warm and heavy, a small part of strength and life actively giving the limb integrity. That feeling that told you, the hand was just relaxed, its owner asleep but alive. Death took that last piece of strength and life, so that the integrity of the hand was gone and it felt like a deadweight in his. There was no doubt. Tessarion was gone from this body. 

Slowly and with reluctance Glorfindel gazed down on his fallen friend. An empty shell lay there, between his fallen enemies, his skin white, his scar standing out on his skin, the blood darkening, his hair seemed to have lost its gleam already. His body, that he knew so very intimately through endless training and sparring, broken. The notion that Tessarion was gone from his body, did not ease his mind and he felt lost, sitting there with that lifeless weight in his hand. He knew what lay beyond the borders of this life, he had experienced it himself. Still, to be left behind was a bitter feeling and his fëa longed for his friend and would do so for a long time still to come. But the time to grief was not in the present. He needed to take care of his warriors first. 

Slowly he lay his hand back on his chest. He sought Tessarions sword and wrapped his fingers around the hilt to unite him with his weapon. They would take his body home, but lying on the battlefield like this Glorfindel thought to give him some dignity by uniting him with his sword, if only for a little while. He did not want to release his body, but the flesh was turning cold and his warriors needed guidance. He closed his eyes for a moment, murmuring a private goodbye to his friend and then squared his shoulders and stood. They needed to get moving. The dead should be transported back to Imladris as well as the wounded. The remaining warriors were necessary to protect their slow backtrack home for the orcs would return, he was certain of it. Afterwards they would go out for battle once again, the orcs could not be left unhindered in their lands, if they were still within the borders of Imladris. But what to do about Rin? 

He turned to find his second-in-command and the twins, only to stand nose to nose with Naertho, Tessarion’s second-in-command. His face was contorted in anguish and sorrow, staring down at his captain. His face held streaks of dirt and blood, tears had left clean spots that stood out on his cheeks. He seemed frozen. Glorfindel took his shoulders and shook him softly. 

“Naertho, are you alright?” 

The elf blinked as if he was watching the sun. Suddenly unnerved that he had been drifting off in his thoughts and grief this thoroughly. 

“Are you alright?” Glorfindel pressed. 

“No, my Lord, I am not. But I will be.” Naertho whispered. 

“Good. We need to gather the injured and the dead and return to Imladris. When we have reported to Lord Elrond, we will take the remainder of the guard to scourge these lands and avenge your captain.” 

Naertho’s eyes lit up at the prospect of revenge. Glorfindel pressed on: “Also, we need to retrieve Rin. She holds valuable information and although accomplished with the sword, against this kind of force, she is a vulnerable target. Is she alone?” 

The practicality of Glorfindel’s words brought Naertho back to reality and he paled at his words, then burst out exasperated, “This is most unfortunate! Alas! Had we known earlier, we would have discouraged her plans. But I fear we would not have persuaded her. She is rash and impatient, as mortals can be. She would have travelled despite the danger.” 

Elladan and Elrohir, standing nearby, were relieved to hear some news on Rin and could not help but smile hearing this description, despite their worry. Rash and impatient. They added silently, brave, reckless, action and violence driven and heart shatteringly beautiful. Their hearts soared in pride for a moment. 

Breaking into their conversation Elladan said: “She is hard to distract from what she wants, Naertho. But she would not have been so foolish as to venture into a threat this large.” 

Naertho locked eyes with him. Distaste clear in his eyes. “You speak with personal knowledge, son of Elrond. Speak. Was it you that hurt her?” 

Elladan stiffened. Elrohir grunted, “That is not your business, Naertho”. 

“Your silence on the matter betrays your repetitive ways. Let this be a warning for you, sons of Elrond. Rin has earned respect within this Guard for serving this Guard without demanding special treatment despite the fact she is mortal. We noticed her special connection with our Captain which brought us joy, for he has mourned Zeale for too many centuries. As warriors of the Guard we all have pledged to our Captain and it is beyond doubt that we will protect this mortal that he held dear and harm we will not let befall her. Regardless of who threatens her.” 

His meaning came through and a heavy silence fell between them. Elladan felt devastated by the news that she and Tessarion had had some kind of connection. Had they lost her already? Elladan sighed in defeat. “You need not fear for our behavior. Truly, we are here to help.” 

Naertho looked surprised, as did Glorfindel. A severe reaction to this news was expected, but the brothers acted differently. It seemed they were changing, if ever so slightly. “Then do what you do best and rampage against a force unheard of and face odds just as unlikely. Retrieve our friend and make sure she is safe.” he gritted his teeth in anger. “Or die trying.” 

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows at the venom in his words. Was there a history between them that he had no knowledge of? He put his hand on Naertho’s shoulder to calm him. Elladan and Elrohir were not shocked by his last remark. They only nodded, their faces grim, dipping their heads towards him in acknowledgement. It seemed that Naertho had understood the workings of their minds. They spoke the same language. 

Glorfindel contemplated the possibilities at feverish speed. The twins going after Rin was a terrible risk to take. What if Elrond’s foresight was still in place? How could he face Elrond if his sons were found dead? But he could not leave his warriors to go after her himself. And he knew she was likely to meet her death without assistance, although Elrond had not foreseen anything about her. The Elves around him held their breath in respect for their Captain. Silently awaiting orders or information. The twins however, did not uphold this decorum of respect and Elladan broke Glorfindel’s concentration without any scrupules. 

“We are losing precious time. We will head out to fetch her and return safely.”

Glorfindel looked up irritated. “Or die trying! How do you expect me to explain this to your father?” 

“‘Tis no different from other times, Glorfindel.” 

They were right. It was the only way to move forward. But he childishly wished for them to let him make this choice in a well thought-out manner. His nostrils flaring in sync with his temper he tried to reign both in. Elladan and Elrohir were formidable warriors. Despite their reckless behaviour, he knew they would be able to aid Rin against all odds. His responsibility lay with the rest of the warriors for now. He spoke through gritted teeth: “Fine. But you will not ride alone this time.” 

Elladan looked exasperated. But before he could comment two Elves strode forward. Raithon and Aien stared at Glorfindel and the twins with troubled features. “If she is in danger we will accompany Master Elrond’s sons. Rin is our friend. And like Neartho said, we all pledged to our Captain.” 

Elrohir and Elladan stared at the two Elves suspiciously. The word ‘friend’ caused feelings of jealousy in their hearts. But Glorfindel felt relieved that volunteers had stepped forward. “Your assistance is much appreciated.” and then he levelled an intense stare at the twins. “You know what is at stake. But no unnecessary risks this time or we will pay dearly. Si bado, no círar. ** 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

They travelled in silence. They felt hollow and empty, grief clasping their hearts. The past events still did not fully sink in. The grief came in small bursts, accompanied by realisation. Love held many forms for the First Born, but all forms ran deep. It was a grief unimaginable for mortal men. Love that ran so deep it would never wither nor die, its memory always lodged into the very being of its donor. Raithon and Aien were severely shaken, trying to bury their feelings to focus on the tasks at hand. 

And the brothers were too caught up in their own dark jealous thoughts over Rin befriending the guard and Tessarion. They feared thinking about his relationship with her. Did they lose her already? Was their endeavour fruitless? What was the meaning of saving her, if her heart was lost to another? Why bother if their doom was upon them already? 

They knew why she wished to travel North. What she meant to do in order to find her own path. She would be carefull and stand her ground against enemies. She would be enraged if they tried to overcome her and take her back to Imladris by force for her own safety. Even if Glorfindel would expect this of them, they would not distract her from her purpose. They would find her and keep her safe. Even if it meant accomanying her to the North if she still wished it. 

Raithon and Aien rode behind the brothers next to each other. They shared a knowing look of concern. The sons of Elrond were infamous for their explosive temper and recklessness, often attacking head on. Rin would not benefit from four dead Elves. They needed to keep the risks to a minimum, while appearing subservient towards their Lords’ sons. If they realised that they steered their endeavour towards a more conflict avoidance path, they would risk being sent back to the Guard. But how should they then proceed? How to avoid a direct collision with a band of orcs and wargs with two headstrong Elflings in charge? Raithon cursed inwardly, for Elflings they were, but unfortunately by birth higher in rank. They needed to gather their wits and steer these Elflings in the right direction, avoiding casualties. 

They had passed through the gorges, its warmth and redness glowing still, behind their backs. No enemies had happened upon them, not a sound amiss was heard, but with each step their hearts grew heavy. It had been days since Tessarion and Rin passed through here. They could not speed up through this labyrinth which frustrated them, their energy pent up, ready to explode. They wanted to race towards the north in direct pursuit. But only patience and caution were their friends in this perilous myriad of gorges. 

When they finally reached the end of the last gorge and their patience, the twins rushed out in a flurry of action. Their horses shot forwards like bolts of lightning. Blindly they leaped out and towards their goal and Raithon and Aien cursed softly, watching their surroundings first with suspicious eyes. They were sitting ducks if orcs were on top of the steep rock formations. Their backs felt eerily exposed. 

But the twins' thunderous escapade was in a way a good test. No arrow followed them, no shouts and no other sounds than that of their steeds was echoing off the walls. So the warriors set after them, with soft words spoken to their horses, and soft curses under their breaths. 

They rode until dusk. The cold alerting them to the humidity in the air. Smells rose from their surroundings. The smell of moist sand and dirt, plants, wood, stone even. Nature breathed life, alerting them to the passing of time. Raithon whistled to the others, catching their attention and soon all slowed their pace. “My horse needs to rest. I cannot go further.” It was a subtle tactic, projecting the problem on himself instead of telling them what to do. 

Elrohir was frowning, but Elladan nodded in agreement. “Aye. Let us rest for a short while. We will ride under the cover of darkness.” 

Silently they took care of their animals, treating them, unloading them of their burdens. Aien made a small smokeless fire to heat up some water. Its sparks floated happily up to the stars, oblivious of their problems. In silence they sat while Aien made tea. Elrohir followed the Elf’s quick and sure hands and accepted the wooden cup with sincere gratitude, suddenly realising he had not rested nor drank or eaten, since the battle. While his fingers enclosed the warm wood, he felt a heavy tiredness seep into his body, as if he was suddenly made of stone and he sighed despite himself. The first sip of tea made him smile in bliss. 

Turning his gaze towards his brother he noticed his tiredness as well, the dark circles underneath his eyes, he wondered if he looked the same mess. He probably did. 

He gazed at Aien again, who was now sitting on his hinches drinken as well, the damp swirled upwards into the darkness. 

“Tell me how Rin became your friend?” The short question came out sounding more suspicious than he meant it. But Aien just blinked and said: “We were often put together as sparring partners, just as Raithon. I think Tessarion thought it would be beneficial for us both to learn more of her weapon, seeing our profession. Or maybe he knew we would get along, which we did. We just connected in a meaningful way. She is quick to laugh and deep of thought.”

“...... and she is kind. Even though her history is a traumatic one. She has managed herself well through the years it seemed.” It was Raithon who spoke. 

Elladan nodded, glad with every scrap of information on Rin. “And your findings on her weapon?” 

Raithon sighed wistfully. “True craftsmanship. I have not come upon a blade like this before. The layering was perfect, the shape, magnificent. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it was Elven made.”

“It holds a noble purpose. It spoke of honour and good deeds. That weapon seems to fit her well, despite her more dark side.” 

He swirled the tea in his cup slowly, relishing the smell of it wafting upwards, until he smelled something altogether strange yet familiar. The hairs on his neck stood up quick as lightning while his mind tried to make sense of it. He looked up suddenly, alerting the others. 

Silent as only elves could become they sat and listened, pushed out their elven senses to hear beyond the boundaries of sound for something….. Off. 

Suddenly Aien, still holding a small stick to poke at the fire and a cup of tea in his other hand, whispered: “Warg….”.

Raithon had jumped up silent as a cat, his cup falling in the sand with a dull thud, taking out his sword with a soft hiss. Elrohir stood with the same speed. They shared a look and stealthily took off in opposite directions. Elladan and Aien stared at each other with worry in their eyes. 

Aien took some wood to put on the fire. “Fire is our friend against them.” Elladan nodded in agreement, staring around in the dark with his sword at the ready. While the fire grew larger the smell of warg disappeared. Elladan was unsure if the fire ate it or that the creature had disappeared. Was it a scout only? 

A deep silence fell. The moon peeked from behind dark clouds every now and then, shedding light on the leaves of plants around them. No other sound than the cracking of the fire was heard. It felt unnatural. Too silent. Elladan held his breath, staring around in the darkness willing to see. His body tense, wound up tightly like a spring that could explode any minute. 

He cast a look at Aien who sat in silence next to the fire, a branch in his hand, eyes closed, feeling his surroundings with his senses. 

And then with a shockingly crisp crash a warg jumped through the thicket around them, jumping into the light of the fire with ease. Its claws black with dried blood, the nails boring into the sand. The blood of my kin. Elladan thought, feeling anger rising in his chest. 

They stood frozen in shock of a moment. A moment in which the warg stared at them with intelligent eyes. Elladan felt shivers on his back. Wargs were not intelligent. They were brainless animals in need of a master. Why did it feel as if this was something completely different? This was a scout. And he would report back to his masters. He needed to kill it. 

And then the creature opened its mouth, a horrid sound emerging from it. To Elladan’s and Aien’s horror it seemed to speak in a broken voice. And it left just as quick as it jumped next to the fire, leaving the elves shocked and unnerved. The word, if that was what it was, echoing in their minds for a long time. 

“Peredhill...” ***

Xxxxxxxxxx

As soon as the others returned, they broke camp. What followed was a hissing argument in the dark, between the brothers and the two warriors. The latter wanting to evade the wargs tracks, the others opted for following them. So much for subtle steering of these two. Raithon sighed. 

“It is unwise to search for this group. With all due respect my Lord, but you are underestimating them.” 

Elladan shook his head in disagreement. “We should find them. We will be safer when there are less of them out there and if we know where they are.”

They had argued for several minutes now, and the two warriors felt increasingly worried for their safety. Aien whispered furiously: “We should not linger in danger. Rin needs us!” 

Elrohir looked at him sharply. “We can help her by eliminating some of the threats!” His words sounded final. 

Raithon sighed in defeat. Aien tried one last time: “Don’t underestimate Rin! She is not a female that needs to be rescued! She is a warrior like ourselves, and if we have her company our survival will be more likely, with her additional skills. We are stronger together!”

But Elrohir was not swayed. “If we leave the trail now, we might not find them again and they will happen upon us, when we least expect it.” 

Aien grabbed the reins of his horse in fury, saying nothing in return, but grinding his teeth. They were stubborn and reckless as always, not receptive to rational reasoning. Why did they believe only in themselves, why did they not trust Rin to be an equal? They had meant every word. She would be a true asset to their small company and would make their survival more likely. They had fought her in training, they had studied her weapon, listened to her stories of her home world. The brothers however overlooked the virtues of working together with her because they were too focussed on themselves. They had been alone and in pain for too many centuries, to see what was obvious to them. 

What should they do now? If the brothers kept on pursuing this dangerous path, they might be pulled into danger just like them, leaving Rin to fend for herself. Should they speak up and confront the brothers? Should they just sneak off silently? But while the wheels in their heads were turning, they followed the brothers into the ink black night, tracking the paw prints of the warg. Each step brought them closer on the path of disaster and daner, until there was no escape possible. 

It took them hours to track the paw prints back towards its owners and Aien and Raithon became more and more worried. More prints joined the initial ones, until it was clear that the orc band that had battled with their Guard was the one they were following. This was dangerous! But the brothers seemed adamant in their pursuit. They had no other choice but to follow. They were their Lords’ sons. They just could not leave them unprotected while chasing after Rin. 

Xxxxxxx

After a few hours of careful riding, it became more and more clear that the wargs were joined by many smaller orc bands. They held no doubt that they were chasing after the larger orc force that battled their own Guard yesterday and their fear grew with every horse’s pace. Still, the brothers would not relent and kept pushing onwards. 

Aien could not believe their nerve! What did they expect? That they could just barge into a small orc army and fight their way through it? How would they even approach them without being heard or seen? What were they thinking!? 

But Aien nor Raithon were familiar enough with their companions. Elrond’s sons were not that reckless. They knew what they were pursuing and the dangers that lay ahead. If they happened upon the force that battled Tessarion’s Guard, a swift flight was necessary. Still it was better to scout and see for themselves, the warg had left them unnerved. If the pursuit brought them to the larger group, they would leave silently without being seen, if a smaller group gathered… well. They were four now. A fight would be inevitable. They needed to take out those wargs. Never had they encountered a talking one. For the enemy to breed these enhanced creatures was disturbing and bad tidings in any case. But more disturbing was the fact that the beast fled after recognizing their heritage. It almost seemed they were being actively hunted? They needed to find the truth of this matter. 

Scanning the sand next to their horses, they noticed more tracks joining. It seemed that some small groups met each other to travel further. Stealth was needed here. Elladan nodded at Elrohir and silently they decided to take precautions. They both dismounted from their steeds, Aien and Raithon did not need any encouragement to do the same. Calmly they walked into a small collection of trees and after inspection of the density of the foliage, they left their horses in the green filtered light. Unbound, for they trusted them to stay where their masters had left them. In case of danger they would flee back to Imladris as all their animals were trained to. 

On foot, Raithon and Aien felt vulnerable. It was not often they had to stalk their enemy like hunters. The Guard was a strong presence in these lands that they called home, it had no need for stealth. But they knew how to hunt and keep silent and the four elves moved like shadows. They avoided dry leaves and branches, and kept the wind at a good angle, their senses stretched through the landscape, its creatures, to find traces of the evil that they were hunting. But they felt nothing, sensed no threat. Where did they go? What speed did they travel at? 

The trees grew sparse, the ground turned sandy, sturdy bushes littered the ground that sloped subtly downwards into a shallow valley. The smell of these bushes was tangy almost and the sand smelled dusty whenever their feet disturbed it. Then a change was felt. Birds fell silent and the tension in the air turned eerie. The weary elves unsheathed their weapons in silence. 

Then, like fireworks, a sudden explosion of movement, and a large orc formation emerged from behind the plants, as if propelled by metal springs, surprising them. An ambush! When was the last time an enemy force this large managed to sneak upon them! Their warrior pride stung.

The wave of sound and movement lessened their senses as they found themselves in the thick of a harsh battle. The orcs were many, forcing them to retreat after every blow. It was a sign of both the preponderance of orcs as well as a tactic of the Elves to continually create enough room to fight with their swords, preventing them from being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of orcs. Their formation worked, fighting side by side, aiding each other, watching openings, threats. They worked silently and efficiently. Blood colored the sand. They were familiar with each other’s styles, having trained together. And this was an old dance. 

Metal flashed in the sun, the weapons resounded like tuned instruments while their opponents grated and grunted. Sand and dust was kicked up by nimble feet. The orcs were relentless in their advance, the elves worked with precision and accuracy. With large mowing movements their swords made quick work of orc necks, limbs, axes, speers and rusty swords. But their speed matched that of their own and their numbers were such that the impact of losses seemed unnoticeable. 

To break the impenetrable wall of bodies, Elladan jumped over two orcs, his energy high on adrenaline. He moved like water, agile like a cat. His sword flashed like lightning, sending fear into his enemies eyes. He grinned in pleasure embracing his bloodlust, his thoughts vaguely remembering his ripped fëa. He wondered if the mere thought of seeing her again had cured him of the strangeness in his body, for this battle made him feel alive once more. He flew over his enemies, cutting and slicing. He gave a battlecry, heard his brother laugh with pure joy for a moment and then pain exploded at the side of his head. Then, darkness. 

Elrohir witnessed it from the corner of his eye. Within a second the unthinkable happened. His eyes lingered in a state of disbelief and shock. Elladan had penetrated the orc formation, causing mayhem. His position and his opponents forced him little by little to move away from them, until he cornered two large orcs with their backs towards an old fallen tree. His movements were fast, his battlelust sending his fëa alight almost. He seemed blurred, twisting, turning, the blade switching hands with a speed too fast for mortal eyes. But his enemies were not mortals and they acted accordingly. 

One of the orcs was swinging a large club a fraction too fast for Elladan to block or evade it. The flash of red pulled Elrohir’s eye towards his twin just fast enough to see him falling to the ground with a thud like a ragdoll, blood covering the side of his face. And he moved no more.

Elrohir stared in disbelief, his brother’s fëa disappeared immediately, making him stumble. He could not, would not believe it! Elladan could not have fallen, he was just unconscious! He tried desperately to search for his fëa, but was hindered by his emotions that surged to the surface like a tsunami. His anger made quick work of his opponents, but not quick enough. To his utter disbelief, an orc kicked Elladan’s sword away and grabbed his body like it held no weight at all, swinging it over his shoulder. It ran away with intimidating speed. Incredulously Elrohir stared at the image of Elladan’s limp figure, blood dripping from his face, his hair a dark mess, almost reaching the ground. And while the orcs sped away from him, he felt a faint flicker of his fëa. And this revelation crushed his heart with fear, anger and dread. 

Elrohir cried his rage, but was held off by a wall of orcs. Beating down on them, his anger crashing onto their metal protections, it seemed futile. Soon he felt Aien and Raithon at either side, aiding him to penetrate the force, but to no use. 

Emotion welled up in his chest, tears burned behind his eyes. Elladan! His absent fëa felt like a black sweltering hole inside him. He fought desperately against too many of them. His energy draining, his thoughts dark and desperate. Elladan! Where will they take you brother? Flashbacks of his mother’s capture re-emerged with force. Always had they thwarted fate, always had they walked on the edge of a knife. Facing danger, pain and death was a way to feel other things than pain and regret. It was a means to penetrate their feelings, their fëa, to feel something at least. But in their minds the outcome was always death, not capture and torture. Elrohir felt it like a slap in his face. After all these centuries, it never crossed their minds. 

Time and pain had brought down orcs, one-dimensional creatures, evil and dumb. A strategy was not needed against them, they dived head first into the smaller and larger skirmishes, danger was always there, death breathed in their necks, but they did not consider any active plan of their enemies beyond the regular. But now, these orcs’ intelligence blew him away. The idea that they could have conspired against himself and his brother was outrageous and impossible. And then, after centuries of lies against himself, this last veil lifted from his eyes. Our actions were never without consequence. The consequences were never bound to just our fate, but like a stone cast in water, far beyond it! 

Their enemy seemed worthy of them after all, for they were hunted now, in numbers never seen before and they were smart, ruthless and strategic. His father was the one who had seen the consequences. He always had. And they had not listened. The realisation was a simple one, but it sent him reeling. Forgive us, ada. 

A smaller more venomous thought entered his mind. Tessarion had suffered the consequences of their actions. And their chance to turn his fate they let slip because they were thinking of their own pain and fate. Foolish. Foolish they had been. And now retribution found his brother and thus himself. Tears burned behind his eyes, the consequences of centuries of self delusions crashing into him, the absence of his brother hurting him, like nothing else could. We have become vulnerable, brother. We have become a danger to all. 

And then an insane idea popped in his mind. Insane. But the only option left. He could not leave Elladan behind. It was impossible. Without looking at his fellow warriors he yelled: “Aien! Raithon! Drego! Natho Den! Berio Den!”***

The warrior’s stared at him in disbelief. They saw Elrohir jump forwards, his rear vulnerable all of a sudden, repeating his cry. Raithon seemed to understand first. He grabbed Aien’s arm to move him out of the way, then leaped forwards, and grasped Elrohir. He sliced at an orc that tried to strike him down. When his fingers found his tunic, he pulled with force and dragged Elrond’s son down and towards him, pulling him into a run, away from the orcs. They ran like the wind. Faster and faster and the orcs seemed to fall back quickly. Had they had their fill of the fight, satisfied with their prize, a Noldo Lord? 

Elrohir stopped abruptly, panting. Tears of anguish were trailing down his face, but he seemed not to notice. He wrung his arm out of Raithon’s hold, then grabbing him with force, staring into his eyes frantically. “Raithon! Drego! It is folly to linger! You need to save her!” 

“No my Lord! Come with us and….” 

Elrohir cut in forcefully: “I have to go back. It is the only way to save him or make our passing easier! I cannot leave him alone! I cannot!” 

His eyes showed too much white. Raithon recognized the panic and desperation, but still shook his head. “No.” and he grabbed his Lords’ son even firmer to hold him, to keep him safe against better judgement, for he realised that he would not survive the torture and death of his brother. 

Elrohir ground his teeth in irritation. Then within the blink of an eye, he wrenched his arms loose and hit Raithon full on his face with his head, sending him flying with a bleeding nose. Before Aien could react in any way, he ran back towards the pursuing orcs. 

Aien stared. Elrohir’s run towards the orcs seemed to halt their retreat and they waved back towards him until they stopped. The dark haired Noldo lord, fearless, approached, heavy with power, the first orcs cowering in his light. He walked until he stood in their midst, a dark shape in between a sea of grey bodies. Then he sheathed his sword, his head turned downwards and the light of his power died with his resolve. He seemed to shrink, become smaller and the orcs grinned and laughed, calling him names. One knocked him out with a club and like locusts they jeered and hoisted the unconscious Elrohir on their shoulders, carrying his limp body off, leaving Raithon and Aien bewildered and panicking behind. 

** Go now before it is too late.  
*** Half Elven prince or chief.  
**** Aien! Raithon! Flee! Save her! Protect her!


	22. It was said and remembered as such by the …

It was said and remembered as such by the oldest of them, that orcs did not come into being on their own, but were elves once. Elves that were captured and tortured until their fëa was ripped and torn to shreds. Their identities taken from them, their minds programmed to know only of hatred for all things living underneath the sun, only longing for the dark, cool womb underneath the earth where evil already dwelt in the early days. The change solidified further within each newly bred generation. Everytime the corruption penetrated their being a little further. Until, like Middle Earth itself, they had forgotten their first born origins, and called themselves orcs, changing their nature forever. 

Gorchak, chewing on a dried piece of meat, looked out over the endless plains towards the north, wondering about the truth in these stories. Did he inherit more Elvish traits than his fellow orcs? His master had chosen him for his intelligence, not his strength, a lack that he was humiliated for many times. He was the least of the orcs, weak, skinny, without muscle or the much needed brawl-driven. But he survived against all odds. His words, quick as a whip, followed his agile mind seamlessly and although his fellow orcs often failed to see reason in them, his master did. When he could not avoid a fight, he would finish it dirty. He had his tricks and tools to master the brainless strength of others. 

And in the end, against all odds and against his own expectations, he was chosen. He accepted with distrust fuelled by fear, but his master consolidated his new station by choosing a sworn bodyguard of fifty. Forcing their loyalty solely onto him, programming their minds from the moment of their creation to answer only to him, Gorchak. 

His master's decision was instigated by the natural instincts of his servants. Orcs measure each other by testing out physical strength. Hierarchy was based solely upon this and could change during the course of a military campaign. And like so, strength became a weakness, for change of command within a state of battle caused defeat often. 

Gorchak knew this to be true, he had witnessed it more than once, despairing the outcome. His master had acted upon the subtle hints he was allowed to give. And here he was, protected by brainless strength, in charge of an even more brainless horde. And with success. He had been allowed to take the newly bred wargs and the results were astounding. The intelligence they brought him was of invaluable worth. They had been able to penetrate the perimeters of the Elven Guards within the boundaries of that wretched realm, undetected. And it brought him sensitive knowledge, things that were meant to be kept secret. It engaged his quick mind to no end, he hungered for it. His servants told him that a female human was among them. She held a special position, under scrutiny of the scar-faced captain. Her demeanour seemed off, out of place and it seemed that she sought out secrets in the Dunedain strongholds, far North. He grimaced. He was good with secrets. The answer and solution both lay north, but she would not travel unseen. He would capture her, just like he, to his utter surprise, had managed to capture the Elf brothers that his master was obsessed with. 

He stared at his bounty. Dark silken hair. It was unbelievable. The sons of Elrond. Within his grasp, at his mercy. The glory and reward this would bring him! Flesh, blood, domination. He shivered in anticipation, licking his black lips.

“Gorchak.” 

He turned towards the gruff voice, staring at his second in command. “Keep them unconscious for now. We need to run farther still.” 

“But those wretched Elves will not cross the boundaries of that realm.” 

Gorchak sighed. How many times did he need to explain this? “Dakgorim. You know who we captured? They will follow.” 

Dakgorim grinned, black spit dripping from his fangs. “Hope they will.” 

Gorchak rubbed his hands over his naked skull. His legs burned, but he was used to exhaustion. Weak as he was in combat, he did have endurance. He watched where his men held their precious burdens tied and unconscious. He looked forward to the first real resting place for he longed to hurt them, like they hurt so many of his kin. With disgust he watched their smooth skin, untainted. He hated the Elves. Spoiled, no hardships in their pretty lives. They lacked emotions, ambitions, directions. He spat on the ground. A race born to be dominated. Their time was waning. His time was on the rise and he would see his master's plans come to fruition. 

They ran the rest of the night, the stars were to his relief, veiled by wispy clouds. He hated their glittering presence. It made his longing for the velvet darkness underneath the northern mountains all the stronger. His orcs complained loudly, the weight of the brothers wearing them out. During the night, the whips and other threats seemed to harvest insufficient results. Some of the orcs were on the brink of collapse. He cared not but for their growing vulnerability with every mile. 

He needed to split up into the smaller bands with which he invaded these lands successfully these past weeks. The wargs would keep up communication between them, the smaller groups were less easily detected. And the elves would be unsure of which group to follow, hopefully splitting their forces up as well. 

He smiled. He knew what would haunt them in a day or so and the power that came with their elven skills. They had lost to the Elven Guard when that golden haired filth came to their aid. His strength sent fear in his troop, his light blinding and too warm, his techniques skilled and enhanced by his magicks. No, he would not risk another attempt in a head-on confrontation. Their success lay in their speed and stealth now, not their numbers and fighting force. 

The order to split up was greeted with much expected misunderstanding and anger about following the orders of a weakling. But Gorchak shrugged, stating if he would be wrong, their fate would be death and his masters had numbers to replace them. Then his guard killed the ones he pointed out for them. He enjoyed their fear, ordered the meat to be taken as food rations and soon the complaints stopped. 

Without being ordered to, Dakgorim carried him when the guard of fifty resumed their march towards the north with even greater speed. The carrying was uncomfortable, Dakgorim’s smell overwhelming, his armour hard, cutting in his flesh with every step. But his legs ached and he was for a moment grateful for Dakgorim’s sheer size and strength. Next to him one of the elves was bouncing face down, blood dripping from his face. He licked his lips. He would give all he possessed to get a night with that untainted white flesh within his grasp. Would he dare ask his master for a taste of it as a reward? He shivered again at the thought of tarnishing all that tender whiteness. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

But it was not the Rivendell Guard that was hunting the orcs to retrieve the heirs of Imladris’ Master. Three figures had been riding with frantic speed northwards, trailing the orcs and wargs through the changing landscape, until the tracks split in several ways, leaving their pursuers in consternation. It took all the tracker abilities of two Elf warriors to discern footprints that carried a heavy load in between all the chaos on the ground. And now, a day later, they were crawling through tall grass towards a small camp, hoping to find Elrond’s sons and to set them free. 

Rin felt the familiar stirrings of fear rising inside of her staring at the wall of green around her. The warm and lush smell did not distract her from the uncomfortable movement of crawling on her belly with weapons, and she worried constantly about the twins. Are we too late? Will we be able to defeat them? 

Her thoughts travelled back towards the day before, to how the duo brought her the worst of tidings. The death of Tessarion and the capture of their Lord’s sons had weighed heavy on their hearts and when they overtook her she had read their faces like a book. She had stopped Bethril abruptly at the sight of them and the silence around her felt like a suffocating blanket on her sweating skin. Struggling to slow down her heartbeat and breath, she stared at their faces knowing what news they bore, a complex feeling of dread and anticipation washing over her. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, unable to turn away. 

When the warriors had slid out of their saddles and wordlessly embraced her, it had made her feel suspended in time for a moment and she had wished it would last forever. But she knew that soon they would spill their dreadful news and she felt the sudden urge to beat them to it. As if control could make it undone. “Is he dead?” The words came out dry and heavy.

In surprise, Raithon nodded, face contorted by grief. “The Guard was ambushed. They were with too many and too strong. He fell in battle.” 

Tears came and would not stop. Tessarion, sweet Tessarion. She had felt him go, the realisation now seemed to hit her even more severely. She had felt him go, and he took a part of her with him. It had been too short. Their souls had touched, somehow. She knew he believed it, felt it. And she had felt it only when it was too late. And now he was truly gone. “Tell me how he died?” Anything to keep his memory with her longer. 

“It was a worthy battle. His stance was magnificent, his skill unrivalled, but I fear exhaustion played a part in his demise. When in dire need, Lord Glorfindel’s arrival brought things to a tipping point, lending him his own weapon. With it, only moments later, he saved me from a perilous situation. I was caught up with my own fight, I did not see it happening….” he swallowed a lump in his throat, “....but it was then that he saved Lord Glorfindel from certain death, taking a fatal blow that was meant for him, to his abdomen.” 

Her breath caught through her tears. “Glorfindel? Why was he there? What happened?” 

Aien explained the turn of events. How Glorfindel’s Guard came to the rescue, acting on the foresight of Master Elrond. Their bittersweet victory. The selfless actions of Tessarion. The shocked Glorfindel, refusing to accept the death of his friend until it was inevitable. The promise of Elrond’s sons to Naertho to find her and see her safe. 

Speechless, feeling her mind working in circles, the promise of Elladan and Elrohir baffled her most. Why had they travelled with the Guard, lending their aid, riding out with Glorfindel? What news from their father could instigate their assistance to the safeguarding of the realm? It must have been severe, with such an impact that they could not ignore it! And why would they voluntarily seek to chase her and see her safe? Why not choose others for that task. They did not want to see her. 

Suddenly the tears for Tessarion fell again, surprising her. To her relief, the two Elf warriors had not comforted her, only handed her a skin with water silently. 

It took her some time, but when she was in control of her body and emotions she stared at them suspiciously, confused by their grave, insistent faces. And she realised only then, that neither Elladan, nor Elrohir was in their company. “Is there more?” 

They had shared a look, hesitant. A cold shiver broke out over her skin, already dreading their answer. 

“Elrond’s sons have been captured and are being taken north.” 

She felt all blood drain from her face. “Alive?” They nodded solemnly, guilt and shame clear on their fair faces. “Tell me all about it.” 

When they told her the turn of events and how Elrohir ran back towards the orcs, surrendering to them she jumped up shouting: “He did what?!!!” 

What had he been thinking! Sacrificing himself, making their cause even more lost than it already seemed. What an idiot! 

But now, crawling through the tall grass she saw no idiocy in his actions. Rin’s mind was working furiously. She knew why he did it. She knew them well enough. He could not leave his brother alone to die or to be tortured. If they were captured together, they would at least meet their death together. It would save Elrohir the agony of staying behind alone. They wanted to face the end together at least. Elrohir had purposely given up on hope. Hope for a rescue mission, hope to save his brother, to escape. He had given up on life when he gave in to his defeat. He traded life and hope for death, greeting it as an old friend. And she could not blame him for it. 

Next to her, Raithon touched her arm softly, his eyes worried. “If you wish, you can leave this task for us to solve.” 

He was giving her a way out. For a fleeting second she considered it. “No, I owe it to them. I want to fight.” she gripped her weapon. “You know my sword’s purpose.” It was not a question and he nodded. “It is equal to my own purpose.” 

Raithon nodded. Yes he knew and understood. No more was said and they moved until the grass parted on towards a gruesome sight. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Elrohir knew the tales of the origin of the orc race, but staring at the lumpy grey body in front of him he could not believe it. He sat slumped against a large boulder, pain tearing at his limbs and invading his head, burning behind his eyes. His sight still blurry, he tried to focus on the creature standing too close for comfort. Every nerve in his being screamed at him to flee or fight, but his mind knew there was no escape, his weapons gone, his energy drained, he had to stay put and endure whatever was coming. Where is Elladan?

The orc laughed softly, the knees bending at the joints as it lowered itself to his eyesight. The face was ugly, like all other orcs, the teeth rotting and damaged, dark fluid seeping out of its mouth. The stench of its body overwhelmed him, sweat, urine, shit, animals, an overwhelming cocktail, making his stomach churn. The smell inescapable, he tried to breathe shallow through his nostrils. But the lack of oxygen burned his lungs until he had to take a deep breath again, feeling the nausea weakening him. A large hand with yellow dirty nails captured his chin in a rough movement, forcing his face upwards. 

What he saw in its gaze, made his blood freeze in his veins. Calculating intelligence radiated from the yellowish dirty eyes. It was assessing him as if he were prey, calculating options and possibilities. There was no empathy there in its muddy depths, only cruelty. 

He stared it down, until it grinned at his defiance, releasing his chin with force. He looked around at the makeshift camp, then at the sky, and finally the landscape. Quickly assessing his situation he calculated they had travelled more than a two days ride by horse northwards. It puzzled him to no end, why had they dragged him with them? Why not resort to killing or torture instead? 

“Where are you taking me?” His voice sounded strange to his own ears. 

The orc that was closest seemed smaller than the others, and laughed softly for some time. Then it said in broken Elvish: “North or course.”

Elrohir gritted his teeth at this. “Why?”

“To make you pay, Peredhil.” He stared into Elladan’s eyes, spitting on the ground. “Too much blood you spilled. The North will destroy you. And your brother.” He smiled at the question he saw in his eyes then. 

Letting go of his chin the creature yelled without turning to another orc, “Dakgorim! Show him!” 

The orc moved aside to free Elrohir’s vision towards the fire. Behind it, where the light failed to chase the growing shadows away, another orc grabbed a handful of dark shiny hair, lifting up a familiar head; blood caked half of his face, and a large gash ran from his cheek towards his chin. Elrohir stared silently at his brother, his broken body, his beauty tarnished and a coldness fuelled by anger entered his veins. Elrohir gritted his teeth, his heart screaming silently for his brother. But he knew with a sinking stomach that he was powerless and that this was only the beginning. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

It was too much to take in at once. Rin blinked in horror. Lying on her belly in between green tall grasses, her hands gripping the culms in front of her tightly. Her heart broke when she realised what she was seeing. Despite the pain it caused her, she could not look away, she drank in every detail with a morbid fascination. 

Elrohir was held by three orcs, in silence thrashing, his muscles taut, a show of teeth and burning eyes, as wild and feral as the wolf he was compared to. Following his gaze she saw the cause of his rage. On the waterside, four orcs, shouting and laughing, were holding his brother’s head under water. A smaller orc laughed and yelled at Elrohir, close to his face. It was enjoying his pain and rage, urging him to give him more of it. 

Elrohir focussed his gaze on the orc with effort, seething, pure hatred emanating from his eyes. There was blood on his face, one of his eyes bruised, blood dripping from his arm. He stared at the orc with all the hatred he could muster. He ground out words inaudible to Rin. 

The orc just laughed at him, growing in his sick powerplay. “Demands? How long d’you think your precious brother can hold his breath?” Then the creature bent over and licked his cheekbone with vigour. “It is a shame Master wants you unspoiled, or I would have a taste of that white flesh, my pretty.” 

He signalled to the others and Elladan was hauled out of the water. The brothers gasped for air simultaneously. Elladan was in a bad shape, white as a sheet, coughing up water and blood. They kept him on his knees facing his brother, his chest heaving air with painful force. When he reclaimed his breath, he lifted his head to gaze at his brother. 

Their gaze held no emotion nor urgence, it was silent and calm. But Rin knew better. A world of communication was passing between them. Understanding and calm seemed to slowly reach Elrohir and his shoulders lost their tension. 

Then the orcs forced Elladan down once again. In horror she watched Elrohir close his eyes, breathing through his nostrils, forcing himself to calm. And in horror she realised that they had accepted their fate, and were content that they would face death and torture at least together. Game over. The 21st century term popped into her brain, like a morbid joke. Detached she watched Elladan’s body twitch, and struggle against the weight of grey flesh. Her brain tried desperately to catch up with the horror of it and then, before she knew it, her body was already triggered into action. Like a spring coiled up too long, she jumped up to follow her sword’s purpose.

xxxxxxxxxx

Vaguely she realised that she was a fool. She had not thought of their chances, nor of Raithon and Aien. But all those thoughts fled her mind when she locked eyes with the silent form of Elladan underneath greyish limbs. A scream tore from her throat while she tried to cut the orc closest her. But her movement was off, her emotions sabotaging the synchrony between body and mind, and the metal of her sword found no resistance but air, throwing her out of balance. She stumbled. A miscalculation, shimatta! To her utter astonishment, the orcs made no move to attack her, but stood there and laughed at her clumsy move. All the while they kept on drowning Elladan. 

She froze for a few moments, her katana’s point resting on the ground. It felt so strange, as if stuck in a comic book. Move! Save him! Her inner voice screamed at her, but still she did not move. As if in a dream she stared at Elladan’s lifeless body, mud caked underneath his belly. Then a sound behind her. Vaguely she realised it was her name. Elrohir! He screamed her name! Something inside her ignited. As if his voice held a magic spell she felt her body move forward with such a speed that it surprised the orcs. A sloppily drawn sword was not fast enough to block her and this time her katana hit home, stabbing through the largest orc’s head in one clean cut. 

This time the other orcs seemed to take her seriously and when she had pulled her weapon from the bone of their comrade, she had barely time to block another. This one, less bulky, but just as tall, fought like a devil, quick, cunning and skilled. Nothing like the other orcs she had fought. Inside she faltered. What was going on? Was she losing her skills? Or were these orcs just of a different kind?From the corner of her eyes, she saw the pale back of Elladan next to her. Searching inside of her for that bloodred stillness hidden behind that door, she gritted her teeth. She could not lose here! 

But still her mind was not free in the fight. Fear was limiting her. Fear that she made another mistake and that the twins would pay the price. In despair she thought of her companions. Raithon and Aien! Where were they! Her opponent suddenly gripped her katana with his free hand, wrenching it out of her hands, making her heart shoot inside her throat. For a split second all seemed lost, but the orc fumbled with the blade, letting it drop in the shallow water and it took a well aimed kick to dislocate his kneecap, to make it fall over with a loud cry. She grabbed frantically in the water, where the metal shine had disappeared. Then the familiar tsuba met her fingers. 

Euphoria bubbled inside of her when she lifted her katana from the water. In the momentum of her opponent’s crash into the water, she used the window to stab the orc in its other leg as well. When she heard a piercing cry from the creature, she tried to tug on Elladan’s lifeless body. An attempt to wrench him from underneath the other orcs' weight. Panic rose inside her. Too heavy! This took her too long! Despair reached for her with its clutches. She had lost him already and she knew it. The two remaining orcs had left Elladan’s body, now focusing their attention on Rin, hacking at her with their rusty blades. They were truly alarmed at her skill, concerned for their safety enough, to risk the Elf Lord underneath them to rise. But he did not rise. Despair setting in further, she realised that despite the lack of weight pressing on him, Elladan still was lying face down in the water.

These two orcs were vicious, just like their companions. They seemed well in tune with each other, driving her slowly away from Elladan. Tears blurred her vision. She had failed him. But when all seemed lost and the force of the enemy’s blows was hurting her arm more and more, she suddenly felt it. It was as if the air became thicker and pushed against her back. It was an aimless force that lifted her and was accompanied by a familiar cry piercing the air, slicing it apart. Her name was called out, and it seemed to strengthen her. It was Elrohir. Relief flooded her system. Raithon and Aien seemed to have focussed on adding to their numbers, by freeing the most dangerous warrior among them. 

She felt his familiar power, realising that it had been missing completely when he was captured. And now it washed over the small battlefield, lifting her, comforting her. For a moment she felt his body heat next to her. With lighting speed he had thrown himself in her battle, and they fell into sync without thinking. Flashing metal, sprays of blood and with two dull thuds the orcs fell before her feet. Elrohir ran towards his brother, kneeling and hauling him out of the water.

But there was no time to see the outcome. More orcs were surrounding them and she had ample time to whirl around and moved to block another attack of a heavy axe falling down upon her. Blocking was useless, she realised, the axe was too heavy. She tried to sidestep it, and the metal fell towards the ground just beside her foot. A sharp command was barked from behind the orc, keeping it from further attacking. Leaving her in a strange vacuum. 

It was the small orc that had yelled. The battlefield was a mess. He seemed to be calculating their options and had chosen for retreat. It cursed, spitting on the ground in the sand, the black stain soiling the whiteness of it. His intelligent eyes penetrated the dust filled air like sharp knives. She felt the malice cutting through her. And then he grinned at her. A knowing grimace, and she felt the stirrings of fear. 

In broken Westron he yelled: “You cannot escape this, mortal! My spies have told me what it is that you seek. I will make sure that it is destroyed before you reach that stronghold, mark my words!”

She felt her face blanch at his words. It was the last thing she had expected. For him to recognize her, to know her. What on earth? Did he know she was searching for Aragorn? Did he realise the meaning of her search? The importance? Weighing his words she ruled against it. This was just petty powerplay. He wanted to make sure that whatever it was she wanted, was unattainable, broken, dead. 

Against better judgement she felt the need to taunt him. “Kutabare! You are on foot, with only a few of your minions. We are on horseback. I think you overestimate your chances.” She spit on the ground in turn.

Gorchak laughed out loud, head backwards, leisurely almost. “I have my ways of communicating quickly over vast distances. My servants will be halfway there already.”

Wargs, she thought. The wargs were his messengers and spies. She never read about this in the books. That was eerie and very dangerous. They must have spied on the Guard, somehow they managed to overhear her conversations with Tessarion. She could not suppress a cold shiver. It was unnerving to realise how close the animals had managed to come, how close to death they had been. How was it even possible to avoid the Elven guards? She shook her head in disbelief. 

He flashed a look towards the twins. “I will see them sooner than you think. And I will taste that white flesh, one way or another.” He then turned his gaze towards Rin, eager for a reaction. 

But Rin felt a strange calm descend upon her. “I wish to know my enemy. What are you called?” 

Intelligent eyes widened for a moment, then small wrinkles surrounded them. “Gorchak. Well met, Shimizu Rin.”

She did not feel surprised, only stillness. “Mark my words in turn, Gorchak. I will protect them. You will lose.” 

He grinned, black spit dripping over his chin. “I will kill you slowly, mortal. And they will watch.” 

And with this last threat, he disappeared in the thicket, his servants hot on his heels.

A strange sound alerted her and she whipped her head towards it. It came from Elrohir, a guttural inhuman sound produced by pure anguish and despair. Elladan was a pale shape on the ground. And for the first time since the fight she really saw him, the reality of him. His body naked, white chest pale and unmoving. His stillness was unnatural and she knew him to be dead. 

Elrohir had transgressed from panic to apathy. He held Elladan’s upper body on his lap, the arms flopping awkwardly in the air, staring at his face in silence. He looked defeated. His grief cut through her heart, while she watched him staring at his brother.

She found herself strangely numb, her defenses pulled up in her mind, protecting her from her own emotions. She had been there herself, in that moment in time, encapsulated within pain and agony, when her sister died. 

But her detachment made her mind kick into refusal. He could not be dead! Not in this world of magic, fea’s and bonds! She pushed down her sword and when the metal hit the bottom of the sheath with a raspy sound, one thought hit home. She was from a world without magic, but with hospitals, doctors! With a flash she was at the devastating scene, pushing Elrohir away. “Move!” 

Pressing her shaking hands on his wet chest, she started CPR. The movements were slow and rusty, but the rhythm gave her strength and calmed her mind and she worked his chest as if in a dream. 

Time passed. How much, was unclear. His skin underneath her hands felt so cold! Was she too late? She kept massaging his chest, urging him to breathe. She kept on kissing his cold lips, while remembering their warmth, breathing her life force into his lungs. How can you leave him! And then another thought. How can you leave us! The thought was small and almost hidden, but it was there. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave us. 

Nothing happened. 

Elrohir sat silently next to her, Raithon’s hand on his shoulder. He waited frozen. He knew that this was a technique from her world. But he was unable to comprehend it. He had never seen his father use this. His knuckles white on his knees, he dared not breathe out in fear of disturbing her. Minute after minute dragged on, his fëa in between hope and despair.

He wasn’t breathing. 

Rin broke the silence with a shrill voice, cutting through them. “Shimatta! You idiot! Breathe! You cannot leave us like this!” Her movements became more harsh and urgent. 

“Breathe!” she yelled, hitting his chest. 

“Breathe!” she cried while she gave him one final hit in the chest, the tears coming in large gulps. 

“Breathe...” she whispered against his lips after breathing into his lungs. 

Nothing happened. She failed. Soft hands pulled her away from his body and she let them. She failed. Staring at his white deadly face, she cried, helplessly. 

Elrohir hissed suddenly, staring at his brother with sharp eyes. Elladan’s mouth twitched and he coughed. They all gasped in relief. He was breathing! Elrohir crawled towards him, helping him up. When he sat straight Elladan puked on the ground next to him, causing Elrohir to cry in relief. 

The release of tension caused them all to both laugh and cry at the same time. He lived! 

They washed the dirt off his body with hands full of water. But Elrohir did not embrace him yet. He was only staring at Elladan and crying, the full impact of what just happened crashing into him. 

Elladan seemed to slowly regain his mind and body. Color rising to his cheeks, his eyes more and more vivid and alert. He watched his brother with a myriad of emotions behind his eyes, until he just pulled him into his chest and enclosed him into a tender hug. 

When Elrohir’s emotions seemed in control again, Elladan, ignoring the audience, lifted his chin with his fingers and kissed his brother. And as if the kiss held some magic purpose, Rin felt her detachment fall away immediately. Her eyes followed their lips hungrily and she realised that she still felt for them all those things that she felt before, and she knew that she had to guard herself from them, knowing they did not want to reciprocate these feelings.


	23. When their adrenaline high came crashing down, silence…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely mystery Beta.... you are the best!

When their adrenaline high came crashing down, silence descended upon the battlefield. Seemingly moving on auto-pilot, Elrohir helped Elladan get clean in the water, searching for his discarded clothes. Aien and Raithon cleaned all of their already blood-encrusted weaponry, searching the corpses for valuables. 

In the sudden vacuum, Rin felt vertiginous. Unable to stand straight, she leaned exhausted against a boulder. The smell of guts and worse in combination with the sudden absence of some strenuous emergency took a toll on her. Within that sudden vacuum, nausea overwhelmed her, made her retch in warm gulps the yellow bile of her empty stomach. Standing straight, her legs trembled while her mind seemed to regain some clarity and she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie. 

Aien looked at her with concern but kept on cleaning his weapons. She let herself slide down against the boulder, finding some kind of relaxation leaning against it, although her body felt stiff and brittle, like precious porcelain. The idea took hold of her mind for a moment, she was indeed made of porcelain, hard, unyielding, vulnerable, she felt angled and sharp in a soft world. The strange displacing sense of self disappeared suddenly and then her mind was processing all that happened in the battle, and she gained no control over it. The images forced themselves on her, again and again. Random images and random emotions enhancing them, rage, guilt, shame, powerlessness. After a while she stopped fighting it, feeling exhausted and she let the control slip and silently watched the movie that was played over and over again in her mind’s eye. From the moment she stopped fighting it, the process detached itself from her. As if she was a zombie. 

When the images receded to the background somewhat, she stared contentedly, her face slack, eyes barely open, from a measured distance to the twins’ fussing. They stood in stark contrast to what passed in her minds’ eye; Elrohir was redoing Elladan’s braids, an endearing activity she witnessed in the lake a lifetime ago and like then, she loved watching it. His pale strong fingers, caressed the dark silk strands, sank into them, lovingly, reverently, as if the braiding was a healing ritual. The vulnerability of it made her feel even weaker in her legs. 

Behind the twins, Raithon and Aien were laughing about something until Raithon plunged his elbow in Aien’s side playfully, making him cry out. What amazing creatures elves were, she mused, both physically and mentally, they seemed infinitely flexible and adaptable. That strength was what made her companions capable of acting so lighthearted, picking up where they left their lives, after an ordeal as traumatizing as this one. And on top of that, they had fought two other battles in the past few days. She just wanted to sink into a bath, followed by a soft modern bed with a feather-filled duvet but knew that the memories of what passed here today would haunt her for the rest of the night and many nights to come. Then again, being immortal and getting PTSS after your first battle, might be a serious handicap for eternal living beings. 

Her mind backtracked. Her mental health made her easily affected to an alternative truth, where bloodlust and self-destructive behaviour was normality. In a corner of her mind, she knew and had experienced that elves were not invincible to trauma of the mind. Maybe they were even more susceptible to it, its results even more life-altering. The twins would be haunted by their mother’s ordeal, for the rest of their immortal life. 

She watched Elrohir’s long fingers weaving intricate designs into his brother's silken strands of blackness. They were enhanced yes, but not invincible, not mentally and not physically. She knew Raithon still bore the wound to his shoulder from the large battle where he lost his captain. A gash on his forehead where it met his hair was still plainly visible. The twins were worse. On top of the fact that he had been tortured, Elladan had large gashes all over his back, clearly from a warg. A large wound ran over the palm of his hand but was stitched and healing already, only faintly red. Elrohir was still dressed, but the way he moved indicated some kind of trauma to his arm. She was amazed at their resilience, to keep going after all this. Then again. There was no other choice. 

A small gasp took her out of her reverie. Raithon stood with his boots in the water, grasping Aien’s arm while peering through the water’s surface. Then a fast movement, his hand dipping through the surface, to retrieve a long curved dagger. They both stared at it intently. Alien took the blade from his friend, holding it with both hands reverently, eyes closed for a moment. 

She must have fallen asleep for a little while then, for the next thing she knew, Aien grasped her shoulder softly shaking it. All four elves stood around her dressed and armed, ready for departure it seemed. How long had she been out? 

Aien was crouching next to her, holding out the beautiful dagger she noticed before. His teasing demeanour was nowhere to be seen and he was as serious as she ever saw him. “Rin, we have retrieved this blade from the battle spoils. It is a blade made by the weapon-smiths of Gondolin, how it ended up in their depraved hands I do not know, but I can feel its purpose is still unspoiled.” He closed his eyes for a moment as if listening. “It takes an evil far worse than what lurks in the North to spoil the intentions of the weapons-smiths of the High Elves. I wish to interpret this as a hopeful sign. It lay next to your enemy, I believe your victory made you its guardian now.” 

He put the weapon in her hands and she felt a prickling in her fingers when they closed around the cold hardness. She held it up in amazement. The weapon was slightly curved, an echo of an Arabic Muhaddab. It had the lightness of aluminium, and the balance seemed perfect. She tested it with a professional eye, knew what to look for in quality. The hilt was a perfect match for her small hand, the yellowish ivory grip feeling smooth and comforting. “What metal is this?” her voice sounded like sharp gravel grinding over concrete, the words came with difficulty. 

“The knowledge of that mixture of ores has been lost to us now. It will not break, its intent will not waver and the metal will glow whenever orcs are near.” 

Her eyes widened in awe. “This is too much, it should be in your care, not mine.” She decided with some regret. 

Four elves smiled gently at her as if she had acted predictably. Aien said in earnest: “Nay Rin, this is your blade, you cannot abandon it.” And with those puzzling words, he stood, speaking softly to the others in Sindarin. The conversation was short and clipped. Aien bent towards her once more. “Rin, do you have the strength to climb onto my back? You are not well enough to walk.” It was a statement, nothing more, the solution only practical. She stood slowly and with difficulty, her knees stiff, Aien turning with his back towards her crouching. She let herself slowly drape over his back, her hands around his neck. She felt his lean muscular shape pressing into her. He smelled different, beneath the stench of battle there was something else, something sharp and herbal. 

Aien stood with ease as if she weighed nothing. Standing for a moment adjusting her weight he said softly; “Just don’t vomit on me.” 

And despite her protesting body and fatigue, she laughed at his joke. “If you don’t shake me too much.” She could feel him laughing at her quip and relaxing a bit. Then he started walking. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Aien walked with buoyant strides through the rough terrain and seemed to experience no hindrance owed to her weight, which made her feel better. They soon found that the horses strayed but little from their masters. Rin lay her head on Bethril’s nose with relief. The horse received her affection passively, patiently waiting. She enjoyed the feel of the enclosed power in his warm muscles, his scent. Somehow the horse had become the equivalent of home in the weeks she had journeyed. Finding him unharmed made her feel relief and strength simultaneously. 

Soon their horses were finding their way carefully through rough terrain, carrying their masters reverently, every step taking them farther from the battlefield. Aien had found a leather sheath for her dagger and had adjusted it to fit her lithe waist. Bethril seemed edgy, an effect of the smell of orcs and warg on their skin. While first, their aim was to put as much distance between themselves and the battlefield, now she noticed they moved south and straight into the wind. The lack of smell eased the horses’ nerves and she felt her body align in sync when Bethril broke into a steady gait. They rode aimlessly south, silently following a shared goal; distancing themselves from that wretched place, where Elladan had barely escaped death. 

Her reunion with Elladan and Elrohir exceeded all her expectations. It seemed quite easy to guard her heart against them, for they ignored her. With passion. 

While travelling with the Guard, her thoughts had moved to this very moment often. She could not outrun them forever, especially if she ever did find Aragorn and bring him to Rivendell. She liked to believe that she would behave civilly, that after the first initial awkwardness, they could at least be civil to each other, despite the feelings of hurt and pain following their enforced breach of trust. And she was aware of her underlying feelings, still there, unchanged. Her reaction to their kiss had endorsed them further. But her stubbornness had pushed them back once more behind her anger. 

All this oneirism did not prepare her for their silence. No words were spoken, neither to Raithon, Aien nor to her. They accepted their freedom wordlessly, no acknowledgement of the rescue attempt. At first, she thought they were simply too occupied with each other to give them much heed. But soon it became clear that they were in a foul mood. Elrohir was as grumpy and closed off as ever, but talkative Elladan also seemed just as emotional, his features set, his lips a thin line. Their mood was coiled around them, like an angry living cloud. It seemed to her that whenever its tendrils touched her when she came physically too close, her spirits were being dragged down with theirs. She was too tired to fight it off and stayed more and more clear of them when she could. 

When, at the end of the day, their mood was unchanged, her anger replaced her annoyance. Trauma was no excuse for this. They were century-old adults! How could they do this to her and to their kin? On top of this silence, they were travelling south without even discussing it. And they knew of her intentions, they knew the importance of it, for her, for their father’s realm, for Middle Earth. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she realised they would never be cured of this childish irresponsibility, they would always tread their own path in service of their revenge, their bloodlust, feeding their ever-present guilt, wallowing in it. 

When they finally made camp, she had enough. Her strength had been returning during the long ride, making her combative. Ensuring Bethril was comfortable, she let her hands linger for a moment on his powerful warm frame to gain courage. She vaguely realised her emotions to be magnified; an after-effect of the battle still raging through her. But this could not wait. She needed to travel north, she had set her purpose when she left Rivendell and she would not have it be derailed by two petulant Elf Lords. 

Upon connecting her gaze with theirs, the wariness was already there, as if her thoughts and resolve had already reached them. Staring into the silver-grey of their eyes, she let their beauty pierce her heart in self-torture. When she approached she felt their anger and frustration linger, thickening the air around them, reminding her of the power of Elrond in the healing ward so many weeks ago. When she approached them enough, she sighed in defeat at their persistent silence. Her voice sounded rough and unused to her ears. “Ok. I had enough. Just spit it out.” 

Aien blanched at her harsh words. The lack of regard for their Lords was utterly shocking. No matter their foolish ways, noble blood was in their veins, power in their hands and wisdom still resided in them, no matter how damaged their fëa. They were after all their Masters’ sons and they owed them respect and loyalty, no matter how reckless their actions. He stepped forward. “Rin….” 

She held up her hand, palm facing him. “No Aien, they are behaving like a couple of insolent kids. And I want to know why!” she strode towards them, advancing into their personal space. The air around them seemed thick and warm to the touch. “Tell me!” she demanded. 

Of course, it was Elrohir who scowled at her, grunting his reply. The pattern became an old game. “What now?” 

“Are you playing coy? We have risked our lives for you, you barely escaped death and now you don’t speak to us?” Her voice rose an octave. 

His voice, in turn, came out uncharacteristically loud and strained. A clear sign that the adrenaline ride was not over yet. “I did not ask for your help! I chose this ending, made peace with it. You need not have come.”

The words were hollow and she saw the realisation of it clear on his features. He was too raw and emotional after their ordeal, to hide it from her. He did not like to be vulnerable, to be read so easily and his irritation grew visibly. The force and darkness around him grew, but his spite was powerless: “I forgot how annoying you can be.” 

She blinked at him. Her thoughts, emotions, all of them an instant turmoil in her head. The insolence of him! How dare he! 

But before she could open her mouth he said, eyes ablaze: “Do not waste your breath, it is futile to argue. If I may speak for myself, I feel annoyed at being rescued like a damsel in distress. And you have endangered Raithon and Aien!” 

His childish pettiness rendered her speechless. He was breathing through his nose, nostrils flared, eyes shooting fire. Elladan eyed his brother warily, not feeling well enough to speak. 

She said on guard: “What do you mean?”

“You should not have ridden out to find us! It was our decision and not yours to make! Your mortal rashness could have doomed Raithon and Aien to an untimely death!”

She was so angry that she could hardly open her mouth to speak, her jaw closed tight. “Don’t tell me what I can or cannot do, you baka! Why should we leave you to be tortured to death? To let you get off on it? You are insane!” 

He screamed at her now; the air around him seemed to ignite, hurting her skin like acid, making her flinch. “You hold no command here! You do not get to command our warriors nor endanger them. We set Raithon and Aien the task to retrieve you and take you back to Imladris, not to come back to lead a rescue mission and endanger them once again! Why did you not leave us be! We could have died at least together! You were unwanted!” Spittle left his mouth when he yelled the last words and they pierced her heart without mercy. Unwanted. 

Detached, she felt the anger hitting her like an explosion, with one fluid movement she drew her entrusted dagger, holding it backwards with the tip towards the ground. She jumped forward, fighting the suffocating power that crackled around him angrily, until she pushed through to his chest with her hand, making him stumble backwards. And within a split second all that Elven grace turned against her. Hissing metal, light flashing, a flurry of movement and then the weight and warmth of his arm pinning her against a tree, the cold blade against the vein in her neck, his breath against her face, silver eyes dark.

They stood there for a moment, panting, staring at each other mere inches away, but she felt no fear, only an all-encompassing surge of excitement and challenge. The adrenaline had changed her blind anger into a moment of intense clarity. She was aware of the shocked looks from Aien and Raithon who stood, swords drawn, behind Elrohir, uncertain where their loyalties lay or how to disentangle them without provoking the enraged Elf Lord further. 

She ground out carefully, to evade brushing the sharp of the blade against her throat. “You should have thought about this when you neglected their advice to first find me before attacking a force larger than you could manage! It was you who caused all this! You! And you don’t even want to admit it! Even now! Your insane recklessness is dragging everybody around you into danger, unnecessary danger!” 

She struggled against his hold, causing the sharp of the blade to part her skin on purpose. Warm blood trickled over her chest. She hissed. “You arrogant asshole! How can you hurt people around you like this! Wallowing in your own stupid issues. Look at what you are doing to me now!”

Blinking, Elrohir seemed to regain his composure, battling his rage. Then he released her gradually, slowly letting her weight slide down towards the ground. She felt the suffocating thickness of the air in her lungs lessen a bit. Pulling the blade away, he frowned at the blood he caused. He raised his hand deliberately, the warm calloused fingers wiping the blood away, the gesture all too familiar and intimate. And the feeling pulled her back towards the days they were this close, attracted to one another like magnets. Closing her eyes, she shivered while her mind followed the hot trail of his fingers on her skin. When she opened them, Rin saw the fire and anger in him disappearing slowly and to her surprise, it was replaced by shame and concern. But she could discern underneath all that, a dark and intense flash of desire that mimicked her own. 

He turned his head abruptly away from her, staring at his brother. Elladan only nodded at him, unsmiling. Behind him, Aien sheathed his sword, shoulders sagging in relief, but Raithon kept his sword aimed at Elrohir, eyes ablaze. Elrohir assessed him for a moment in irritation, his hand still touching her neck. His voice held a quiet threat. “Stand down, Raithon.” 

Raithon did not falter but stepped closer. “You are not my Captain, Elrondion. Release her.” If he felt emotion, he did not show it. 

“This is not your business!” 

Only then Raithon’s anger rose visibly. “I swore an oath to my Captain to keep her safe, for she was close to his heart. And I will not forswear him.” 

Elrohir’s eyes widened at this, and darkened as quickly, jealousy rearing its ugly head. Then, as if Tessarion’s spirit was forcing him, he released her slowly, stepping back carefully. His body stood taut like a fletched arrow, bordering on shaking. Nostrils flaring, he said without looking at her: “Forgive me, Rin. Your harsh judgement sees truth here. And I feel weary of this truth.” 

He raised his voice a little, sounding set. “Let us vow brother. Let us vow that this cycle ends here?”

Sudden irrational anxiety took hold of her. Forgetting the seriousness of the fight that just transpired, the lethal unpredictability of the Elf in front of her, she invaded his personal space once again and grasped his arm. He whirled his head towards her, his black hair following in its wake, enhancing the illusion that he was clad in raging shadows and darkness. 

She said breathlessly: “No! Don’t!” 

All four warriors stared at her. She released his arm and stammered. “I….“ She fell silent, embarrassed to speak her mind and heart. Her feelings and thoughts skipped and tumbled over each other. “You cannot change your nature within a day under oath!” she said lamely. 

Elrohir tried to smile, but his hawk-like gaze lingered on the trickle of blood on her neck. His muscles relaxed slowly, his overwhelming presence seemed to lessen. “Indeed we cannot Rin. But we can endeavour to better ourselves.” 

She nodded at him, attempting in vain to return the small smile. Her voice had not bettered after Elrohir’s elbow pushed into her windpipe. “If you try, that is enough.” 

She felt silly and awkward prohibiting them from making a vow. This was a world where vows seemed the most important thing. They opened doors, made peace, found truth, they were unbreakable and noble. 

She cradled her flesh wound, the pain increasing now the rush was over. She was selfish. She had thought of the bloodlust they awakened and nurtured in her. And she cherished their perverse relish of that dark lust that resided in herself. She would mourn it if she lost the safe haven that they symbolized. Their acceptance of her darkness felt like home. She would mourn it, if they changed into righteous beings. For righteousness was non existing in her world. Her trail of thought was followed by a pang of regret. They were no longer hers to cherish.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Raithon was tasked to hunt while the others set up camp. He preferred the hunt on foot over horseback, finding the hooves too intrusive. He aimed for small fowl, he had seen them scurrying underneath the crude bushes they passed earlier. Walking through the sand, an arrow already nocked to his bowstring, he felt himself still reeling from the sight he just witnessed. 

He was no stranger to the lashings of the dark menace that consumed the brethren, but never had he been on the raw receiving end of it. An experience he did not wish to repeat. Still flinching while recollecting the memories, he found himself most dismayed by the cool demeanour of Rin for she was not shocked. If he had to name her reaction towards Elrohir when he pinned her down, he would choose excitement. 

In turn, Elrohir’s assault that he forced upon Rin, held more meaning. Through it, heavy want had curled, merging with the thick tendrons of rage, a combination Raithon never understood. He knew that for some warriors the boundaries between violence, ecstasy and lust were sometimes hard to discern, but Raithon was not one of those. It had seemed precisely that mechanism he saw at work here. The blood trail following the wake of Elrohir’s knife had seemed to ignite more than rage or anger. Desire lingered there, complicating a straightforward thing and he wondered about it. 

His thoughts flitted towards Rin then. She was a curious mortal, becoming more than a fleeting presence in his long life. He remembered how he had to get used to her unusual features, the ink-black hair, dark slanted eyes, the toned skin. Nothing like the pale or creamy whiteness of the ellyth he knew. Her features seemed as if carved in ivory with the finest and sharpest knife made by the Eldar. 

Not only her looks, but her nature defied all his previous experiences with the Second Born, for she seemed silent and thoughtful, less rash and uncaring for the deeper flow of time around them. But her fëa felt damaged, she nurtured a dark chasm that ran deep. It had turned her nature violence driven, a liability perhaps. And he had almost made up his mind about her then. And then he noticed her incredible sword, such beauty and strength harnessed by the finest metal, its purpose noble and just. The weapon aligned in perfect balance with her fëa, despite the darkness. Made for each other it seemed. 

It made him regard her more carefully. He had not much doings with mortals, for they held no regard for the flow of time or for the patience that wrought beauty in all things. Easily bored and distracted, hungering for short term satisfaction, they knew nothing of the slow-burning desires of Elves. And he pitied them for it. 

While interrogating Rin on the origins of her weapon, he noticed little differences from what he knew of mortals. She held an inner silence close to her darkness. And in the wake of her impatience seemed the need for tranquility was ever-present. Her regard for the slow pace of tedious repetition that honed skill and quality, made him grow fond of her. And her skills were impressive for one so young. She showed him again and again that she was not fragile nor weak, but strong, lean, and agile. Her strength amazed him. No task Tessarion demanded of her was met with complaint or left unfinished. And he found that he felt no qualms in trusting her. 

There was a dark side to her need for tranquility though. Grief hovered thickly around her and soon the word spread amongst their ranks for it was clear that the dark twin Lords had abandoned again, one they loved. Despite the overall disgust at such behaviour, for the first time, sympathy seemed to be felt among their ranks. Bonding with a mortal was unheard of, the eternal love of Beren and Lúthien the fabric of legend and pretty tales for the Hall of Fire. Even for the Half-Elven brethren, it seemed a perilous path straight towards doom. 

But Raithon could not help to think that this path seemed to suit the sons of Elrond well. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

That night they cooked over a small fire. Raithon had successfully hunted for small game and the smells that wafted through the cold night air were delicate and made her stomach growl. She had been shivering constantly after her fight with Elrohir, being cold to the bone now that the adrenaline was truly wearing off. 

Shivering violently, she was sitting far from the alluring fire, on the edge of a small stream. Aien was cleaning her neck wound, his rough movements betraying his irritation and shock at the twins having hurt her. 

“You don’t have to take it out on me.” She said softly. 

Aien stared at her for a moment, his sharp features stern. “Well, I remember you drawing a dagger first. I did not give it to you to be used against my kin.” 

He was right of course, but she did not feel well enough to admit that, and shame burned on her cheeks. His face softened at her silence, his movements more gentle. “But I must conciliate, your anger was fitting.” 

She smiled at him. “But you are right though; I did start it.” 

Aien frowned. “Technically you did not start this, they have started this many centuries ago, long before you existed. You are not to blame here.” 

Rolling her eyes she said with a fake haughty voice: “I guess, for eternal beings, everything becomes trivial if you wait long enough!” 

He grinned at her and she giggled. And a feeling of normality descended upon her. 

They ate the stew in silence from the simmering pot sitting close around it, each lifting mouthfuls with a wooden spoon, a strangely intimate ritual. The meat was seasoned with a simple pinch of salt and a herb she did not recognize. Due to the fact she was starving and half in shock, it tasted like a Michelin-star dinner. The flavours were round and layered, the exact right amount of saltiness made her relish the textures. When done, she huddled next to the flames to get warmer. Rin felt the stew radiating a glowing heat that seeped into her stomach and extremities and she smiled at the flames. 

Elladan and Elrohir sat across from her, and peering over the fire, she noticed them staring. Gazing back, she felt herself drown in their silver-grey irises. Elladan gave her a small smile, his eyes affectionate. And suddenly he rasped, his voice still marked and broken from torture. “I thank you, Shimizu Rin, for giving me more time with my brother.” His eyes emanated vulnerability. And to Raithon and Aien: “Annon allen, mellyn nin*. Without your quick judgement and aid to Rin, we would have perished now.”   
* I thank you, my friends.

And just like that all emotions, pent up by the adrenalin came crashing out making her cry and laugh simultaneously. Relief settled with finality into her being. All four elven males smiled at the mortal in their midst, who released unhindered all the emotions they felt in like, but were too proud to show. Her display marked some closing settlement. All felt it was time to put their ordeal firmly in the past. 

When emotions were contained once more, Raithon’s voice reverberated within the firelight. “And what is our next course of action?” 

Without hesitation, Rin’s words rang clear in the silence. “I will still travel North. The threats of Gorchak do not frighten me.”

Raithon stared at her, his warm eyes concerned. “But they should. This enemy is unique, I have never encountered such skill nor vicious intellect. I have engaged with many enemies these past centuries, but nothing like these since the Witch King of Angmar invaded these lands.” 

“Agreed”, Aien endorsed. “It feels similar, like such evil is rising again, giving these orcs more existing weight. What is your impression, My Lords?” He looked at Elrond’s sons. 

Elladan stared into the fire, his soft voice almost drowned by it’s crackling. “I agree. I feel the underlying willpower of something greater in their being. It is what drives their ill intent. It seems especially strong in the wargs.” 

Rin stared at him. “What are those creatures anyway?” 

Elladan stared into the darkness for a moment, as if recollecting his thoughts. “Wargs have been bred from the long line of mountain wolves many ages ago. They are widespread now and live as servants of the enemy but also in the wild. When we were younger, we travelled past the peak of Gundabad, and into the Northern Waste, where we encountered them in as many numbers as exist at the Methedras.” 

“Methedras?” 

But Aien interrupted in surprise. “You travelled towards the Northern Waste?” 

“It is our business to know those lands.” Elladan stated cryptically. And to Rin, he explained calmly: “Methedras is the most southern tip of the Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains in your tongue. It is close to Isengard and their presence in that location has been a growing darkness in our minds. I think you know why we are concerned.”

Rin listened with interest. It seemed the brothers did not venture out without purpose, after all, they did show an interest in tracking the enemy beyond the boundaries of their revenge. But why did they hide this from their father? From the Guard?

Elladan continued. “But to answer your question Rin, they are unnatural, more wraith than wolf and they have ill intent. As a beast of burden, and ally of the orcs, they are hard to kill. And one can never be certain of their death, the carcasses have disappeared in the morning without fault. But these wargs…..” he fell silent. 

She added, “These wargs can talk.” And a shiver erupted around her tailbone. 

Elladan absorbed her words, apprehension in his eyes. “Aye. They talk. And they recognize us.” 

Elrohir added with his dark voice. “And they hunt us specifically.” 

Aien said sharply. “It is not their hunt that makes them dangerous, it is their spying. They have made sure that all the small scattered groups of orcs act like one. Where division ruled, now unity prevails. This is a perilous combination!” 

Elladan nodded and continued. “Aye, their intelligence is unnerving. We do not often encounter such advanced reasoning as I saw in that orc, Gorchak.” He spat on the ground after speaking his name, his eyes flaring. Then he looked at his brother. “We have to warn father.” 

Aien could not hide his surprise. Then he questioned. “But surely Lord Elrond knows? His foresight compelled him to send out Lord Glorfindel to safeguard Captain Tessarion!” 

Elrohir snorted, his words gruff. “You hold my father in too high esteem. No external persuasion can influence that Balrog Slayer, he commands himself.” 

Raithon said softly. “You should speak more respectfully of Lord Glorfindel for he has risked much, to aid us.” 

Aien cut in. “Lord Elrond's foresight was sparking these consequences and I would say in this case, that the end justifies the means. He came to our aid. One death instead of three.” 

Elrohir said through clenched teeth, “Yet, the death he came to prevent, came to pass nevertheless.” 

His attempt at riling them up worked, for Raithon stood suddenly, eyes flaring. “At least he tried! He plunged into the battle and all our enemies cowered before him. It was Lord Glorfindel I saw, his power like a beacon, not Lord Elladan nor Lord Elrohir.” 

Elladan said haughtily, “We were in search of Rin and part of the same battle. What are you accusing us of?” 

Raithon laughed, but it did not meet his eyes. Rin stared at him, she had never seen him so emotional. “Yes, looking for your companion, the one you left behind to either die or survive.”

Elladan stood as well, his poise aggressive, staring him down, breathing through his nose, nostrils flaring. Rin felt his power leaking out of him, making him dark and menacing as if he absorbed all light around him. 

She cut in immediately: “Why are you purposely taking yourself out of the equation here. Remember you too have escaped death, even though you claim you don’t care. To me, that is a sign that your father’s foresight has been dealt with.” 

Deflated, Elladan sat down abruptly at her words, staring into the fire once more. “My father saw four deaths and he saw the large orc band with its highly intelligent wargs that gather intelligence. But my father can only see possibilities, a myriad of them, all separated from each other like the faces of a diamond, refracted. He has to interlink them with his knowledge, experience and instinct. He is wise for giving counsel reluctantly, for to interpret so many multiple possibilities is doomed to failure. But reality has overtaken foresight now and our actions have steered what he saw into one distinct direction. If he gets this latest information he will be able to act more precisely. I think it wise to inform him.” 

Another change in them; arming their father with knowledge to better protect the realm. Rin made another mental note. She looked at them thoughtfully. It must be hard for them to think of their father where they only thought of themselves before. 

Elrohir stared at Rin in turn. “And you still want to travel north?” 

After careful consideration, she added into the growing, strenuous silence: “Well, to be honest, it is not me Gorchak is hunting, it is you. If anyone should be prevented from going North it is you.”

Elrohir’s jaw was working, but he kept his mouth shut, showing quite some restraint Rin thought. Then he said through clenched teeth. “You foolish girl. We are not mortal, nor do we fear death and torture. You will be most vulnerable, you overestimate your qualities in battle.” 

She glared at him. “I was not the one being captured and tortured! And can you quit being angry or insulted all the time? Not everything needs to be a battle. We can just talk and share opinions.” 

Blinking, he ignored her snide remark altogether, focussing on their capture and torture. “Your rescue was mere chance.” But he sounded unconvinced of his own words. “I think you risk too much going North now.”

Rin stared back, eyes hard. “You know why I need to.” She held her breath while she watched him digest her words. They would be against it, and she steeled herself to fight them, to explain and to point out her freedom to do what she wished. 

His eyes were guarded when he assessed her. A quick look at his brother and then he sighed. “It is unavoidable and necessary. We will travel north with you.” 

“No! I do not need your help!” The words left her mouth before she could think better of it. The idea of travelling with the twins even longer and have this unuttered trauma wedged between them felt like torture. If an escort was inevitable, better it to be Raithon and Aien. 

But the brothers kept surprising her today, for Elrohir said roughly. “We know you hardly need an escort Rin. We wish to warn the Northern settlements ourselves for we have many connections there, and we feel …. concern for them.” 

She blinked at that. It was barely a difference, more of a technicality, and she suspected Elrohir to say this on purpose. And it did work: her discomfort eased somewhat. Silently she felt glad that she had back-up from the most powerful members of their group, she had not forgotten her misstep in the last fight and how Elrohir had yelled her out of her stupor. If it weren’t for him...

Raithon stared incredulously at the three of them, then sighed deeply. “Your irrational decision making points out to me that you act on undisclosed information. I will trust you know what to do, but I must confess I feel trapped between two evils now. Accompany you on your venture, or travelling back to our Lord and inform him.” 

Aien said slowly. “Both need to be addressed, mellon. Let us split our way and pursue both. I will travel back and inform Lord Elrond. I am the better scout and my chances of evading the enemy are slightly better. Only stealth works here. Let us take that chance.”

Elladan said. “Then it is settled. Four travel North, one to Imladris. Let us sleep now and regain some strength. Raithon, can you take the first watch?”

Rin held up her hand. “Hold on now. One more thing.” All four elves looked at her. Rin stared at them thoughtfully, wondering how to bring this diplomatically. “I don’t know how to put this subtly, Raithon, so I will not try. Forgive me if I offend you with my directness.” She took a deep breath. “This is in part about revenge for me. I want to kill the orcs that killed Tessarion and I want to make them hurt. If you are squeamish about that, I think you should go with Aien.” She glanced at Elladan and Elrohir for a moment and added. “And revenge-wise, I think I have all the help I can get, from those two.” She gestured vaguely to the brothers. 

Her gaze was hard as stone and Raithon blinked at her words. Aien and Elrohir barked a short laugh at her quip, but Raithon looked serious, weighing his reply. She noticed that she held her breath, somehow his answer mattered to her personally. As if a decline of her indirect invitation to chase feelings of revenge would mean a personal rejection. And he was so kind-hearted, so quiet and calm, surely he would reject taking the path that Tessarion told her to be wrong. 

His rich voice resonated calmly. “Revenge it is then. I accept. But heed me, sons of Elrond. I journey with you as Raithon, not as a warrior of the guard and as such I do not take orders from you, no matter your birthright. I will avenge my Captain and uphold my oath to him to keep Rin safe. As should you. Remember Naertho’s words; do what you do best.” 

Turning to Rin he said kindly. “Thank you for speaking plainly, Rin. I would ask you for a promise to favour your own safety above revenge, for I do not wish to break Tessarion’s trust even in death.” 

“Well, I am not a reckless idiot like those two.” She did not look at them, and she could hear Aien chuckle. Raithon smiled at her and the case seemed settled suddenly. 

After drinking some mouthfuls of water they all turned in, to rest or sleep. Raithon kept first watch. Rin lay staring upwards into the endless depth of the universe. She was too tired to think and could only let memories and emotions wash over her, repeating the day's events over and over again. She felt exhausted, endlessly seeing Elladan’s still shape in the water, feeling her sword hit nothing but air, despair and self-doubt washing over her. 

Restlessly she twisted and turned until she settled for lying on her side, facing the receding flames. This was torment. She had anticipated this, but in combination with being exhausted and the silent darkness around her, all repeating imagery felt like torture. 

Detached, she noticed over the dying fire, Elrohir gazing at her, mimicking her position. His eyes held no emotion she could understand, and the blatant stare felt invasive, but she met it head-on. Slowly she imagined feeling him mentally, causing a warm calmness to reach her, washing over her, lulling her to sleep. Was this his fëa she wondered? Was this their bond reconnecting somehow? Her time with Tessarion had enlightened her on this subject, but to try and feel and discern in practice was far more difficult. But soon all thought ceased when she fell into velvet darkness. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Elrohir sat staring into the dying embers of the fire, his body and mind on alert. Elladan sat next to him, his fingers behind him, twirling a strand of his hair in his fingers. It was an idle movement, one that told Elrohir that he sought comfort. The soft tugging on his scalp was soothing, the presence of his brother's fëa gave him a deep sense of peace. Mesmerized he stared at Rin’s small face, sleeping, her skin glowing from the embers’ reflection. He had felt it when his brother captured his lips on that battlefield. When the euphoria of his brother's resurrection surged through him like lightning, he had felt the bond with Rin slam back into place. It was not romantic, but aggressive and decisive, without hesitation nor a possible retreat. Their fate was sealed there at that moment, thrusted into the delicate but strong hands of a mortal girl. She wielded the power to break them or to force them into solitude to fade, and she was ignorant of it. 

Elladan was staring at his face from the side, drinking in his features like a drowned man. His eyes were still somewhat haunted by his ordeal, his fëa flickering unstable. Elrohir forced his fëa to penetrate his brother’s with force, enveloping him with his own. He felt the dark, smouldering core of his brother, the battle lust and thirst for blood and his own fëa resonating in recognition. 

He had almost lost him and he had willingly succumbed to it, to the pain, to death. He had felt at peace there, in the quiet of his mind, even if watching Elladan being tortured felt like being tortured himself. It was an end they had longed for, a violent death, and then to be free of their pain. Their hunt and revenge were ever persisting, but this had felt as good an end as any. And they had foreknown their ending, it lurked on the premises of their consciousness for centuries now. It had been a bittersweet relief to embrace it. 

But it was not meant to be. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that he feared what came next. Dying had felt easier than to face her, to face this bond that they were trapped in. 

He stared at Rin’s silent form again, her willowy figure, her finely chiselled features, her ink-black hair, merging seamlessly with the dark of the night. Her sword mastery had been strong and capable enough to best the greatest orc enemies. His thoughts lingered on the moment he held her against the tree. He could still smell her blood and the warmth of her against his body. He knew he was aroused by her fierce attack on him, by the blood on her skin. And he knew with a sinking feeling in his stomach that it stood in stark contrast with their resolve. They had come to make amends, to beg her for forgiveness, but they had fallen back into their old behaviour. How could they solve this now? How could they make amends while the blood drawn on her was still a dried crust on her throat. How could they make amends when that same blood excited them, making them crave for more? 

Elladan whispered in his ear. “How to ask her forgiveness now? I can feel your exasperation as my own.” 

Elrohir sighed. “Let us do her bidding, let us try.” And he felt Elladan’s warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. And the smoke of the fire drifted restlessly upwards, clouding the starlight.


	24. Beneath a swift sunrise, Rin sat up straight…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas present, wrapped and all. Enjoy and see you in the new year!
> 
> Thanks Mystery Beta, for letting fanfiction being part of your festive days, your comments are pushing me up and onwards.

Beneath a swift sunrise, Rin sat up straight, her hands meeting rimed grass underneath her fingers. The crusty coldness made her shiver and her breath escaped the warmth of her mouth like a white ghost. Small game had pulled dark-lined tracks over the whiteness of the rime, cutting it visually into shard-like shapes. The interval of prints within the tracks pointed to rabbits maybe, or birds. 

A few meters away, Elladan stood watching the sunrise. His dark cloak fell heavily around him, the hem reaching his boots and his hand resting loosely on the pommel of his sword. His posture was alert and proud, like a ronin samurai out of a Kurosawa movie. She had to smile at the comparison. 

Her attention drifted towards the elf lying next to her. With a start, she noticed that his face was mere inches from hers. And he was fast asleep. She studied him with fascination, his delicate features, small silvery scars on his cheek, dark lashes underneath straight elegant eyebrows, his mouth slightly ajar, the thin lips slightly chapped. His breath came out wispy and white as well. Reluctant to avert her eyes from the mesmerizing details of his face, she marvelled at the normality of him. It was not often she saw the elves sleep. They didn’t need it as much as humans and more often pursued some kind of meditation to rest. By watching them unguarded, their mysterious supernatural aura seemed less extraordinary when lying so vulnerable. It must have been the battle wearing them out so much. 

While her eyes were feasting on Elrohir’s silent face, her gaze was pulled reluctantly towards movement in the corner of her eye. Elladan turned his head to look at her, his dark hair being lit from the back, giving him a dark halo of molten gold. “Good morning Rin.” It was barely a whisper and a smile shone through it. But it was enough to startle her and rip her eyes from Elrohir’s sleepy features.

She returned his smile. “Good morning.” 

Elrohir stirred in silence for a moment, then he sat up swiftly, suddenly towering over her. Determined to not stare at him any longer, Rin surveyed the vicinity, asking Elladan: “Where is Raithon?” 

“Filling the waterskins.” 

Standing up, she nodded in understanding, fighting a sudden longing for a warm cup of coffee. Cold un-disinfected water from an old waterskin was hardly a good alternative. But it would do, the view upon the rising sun made up for it. She felt Elrohir standing behind her, folding up his bedroll and striding towards the horses. His morning ritual she knew by now. Suldal whinnied softly at his approach, as if mindful of the silence around him.

The peaceful silence did not last long and soon all were awake and ready to leave. She rubbed her arms, fighting a shiver. The cold was severe and she wondered about the seasons, it felt like winter was coming. She decided on doing some exercise to chase the cold from her bones and fell into an easy yoga morning flow, her breathing slowly falling in sync with her movements. Only when she faced the horses in side-plank pose, her limbs stretched with all the grace she could muster this early in the morning, she noticed Elrohir’s dark eyes watching her over Suldal’s saddle, but as soon as she made eye contact, he looked away. 

Finishing her exercise she felt warm and supple and eagerly accepted a waterskin from Raithon. The coldness of the water was refreshing after her efforts. 

Elladan finished saddling Mithroch and jumped easily in the saddle, taking off North at thundering speed, with nary a glance at the others. Elrohir stood talking in soft Elvish with Raithon and Aien. Then he grasped Aien’s forearm, aligning it to his own, in a strange farewell gesture and followed his brother without looking back at them. 

Her own farewell to Aien that morning was hard. She found herself embracing the witty and kind-hearted elf with all the strength she could muster, surprising him. It brought a fond smile to his sharp features and he murmured words of reassurance for his well being. When he jumped into his saddle, he blew her a kiss and winked. She laughed at his antics, which always lightened her mood considerably. 

While she stared at his figure, disappearing in the landscape, Raithon placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. “His abilities to travel undetected will keep him safe. Do not worry.” 

“I cannot help it.” She stated with an acrimonious smile. 

He turned her around, searching her eyes and said sincerely: “Neither can I.” 

And somehow this honesty made her feel better. There was no comforting lie. He simply stated how he felt. Helping her gallantly into her saddle, they turned North, chasing after two restless Elf Lords who went on scouting ahead already. 

xxxxxxxxx

It took them a full week to reach the farthest borders of the Dunedain territories in the North. Elrohir, who came crashing through the trees at high speed on Suldal, had informed them breathlessly that they were entering a different realm. Rin watched the exhausted Suldal with worry and confusion; he was glistening with sweat, foam dripping from his mouth. Staring at her surroundings, she could not detect anything that could have triggered his conclusion, but for the change in the landscape. Bare wastelands enclosed in the East by snow-tipped mountain ranges, made way for smooth hills covered with large oak and ash forests. 

When the mountains disappeared from view, she still felt their presence looming. Somehow, she had felt ill at ease watching their majestic but menacing sharpness during their journey. Higher than any mountains from her country, they seemed intimidating and dangerous, their white peaks ragged like teeth. The past week, bad weather often surprised them, descending from their slopes, dark cloud formations, thunder so loud it shook the ground beneath them and strange deep irregular resonating sounds that Raithon attributed to stone-giants hurling rocks at each other. 

But, here, facing Elrohir at this woodland edge, she noticed that this landscape felt more friendly; a seemingly more fertile land for humans to live in, were it not for the lingering evil at its borders in the North. 

The travelling had proved to be uneventful. Excitement was modest, coming in the shape of large deer migrating in a vast herd, a dangerous looking bear - a shapeshifter Raithon claimed, and many birds she did not recognize. One time they saw an eagle in the far distance and being used to eagles, she paid it no heed, until Raithon explained how large it actually was and could well grasp her horse with her on top if it felt hungry. 

But apart from encountering these interesting creatures, the relative boring cadence of travelling was her daily companion. The flashbacks lessened under the soothing impact of nature around her, or maybe it was the influence of Elladan and Elrohir. Like when she first met them, nightmares became rare. She had enough time to consider the brothers and their subtle change in behaviour. It was uncanny how easy they fell into step with each other, comfortable routines seemed to silently take their designated place.

But it was far from the same co-existence as before. Unspoken wants and hurts lingered on both sides and there was no physical contact and no words were spoken. The twins were licking their wounds, noticed most profoundly in the uncharacteristic silence of Elladan. Elrohir remained his brooding self, scouting far ahead, his thoughts unreadable but for his brother. Elladan, although close in body, riding with her and Raithon occasionally, had closed himself off mentally. In silence he rode and in silence he watched her, his tongue guarding his thoughts. 

There seemed little time for her to contemplate a conversation starter. The brothers would scout for long periods of time, and at the end of the week disappeared for three days in a row. Even Raithon left to scout, and at such moments she found herself in a welcoming silence to hide and heal in. The trust they indirectly conveyed by leaving her on her own was flattering, but the looming mountains and strange creatures put her on edge as well, making her feel free but acutely aware of her lack of knowledge in a hostile environment. She often unsheathed her dagger, but the cold metal never glowed. 

It was the continued lack of tracks of either warg or orcs that put the elves on edge and forced them to scout so far ahead. Rin agreed that to at least have knowledge about their enemies movement through the landscape was better than this astute lack of it. It made her feel blind. 

Aien was on her mind, and the Dunédain settlements where Aragorn would be born. Steering blind made Gorchak’s looming presence, waiting for them in the north, a dark weight in her mind. He was there. Waiting. And they would walk right into his traps. He would not waste his breath by spying or charging them on their journey. The businesslike logic behind his tactics unnerved her, Gorchak’s gruesome interest in the brothers fresh in her mind. 

Will we survive his sadistic traps and games? She wondered while she looked at Elrohir who expertly kept the restless prancing Suldal steady before them. She had not seen him in three days, only Raithon’s calm had kept her fear for them at bay. Then behind him, she noticed a dark rider approach through the trees. Her growing unease and unfamiliarity with her surroundings had made her check her dagger for any signs of orcs. But then she recognized Mithroch and Elladan and cursed herself for her paranoia. Get a grip! 

Elladan said with a voice rough from disuse: “Let us make camp and let the horses rest.” No words were needed to agree upon that. 

Xxxxxxxxxx

Tasks were shared after making camp beneath a large solitary oak-like tree; Raithon and Elrohir left again to scout, leaving Rin alone with Elladan to hunt and prepare a meal. 

Elladan had returned swiftly with small game, two rabbits and two fowl and now sat leisurely next to the fire, plucking its feathers. Rin sat with her knees pulled up, hands and chin resting on top of them, watching his patient hands. She felt strange, being on her own with him, she was unsure how to break the awkwardness. “Please, let me help?” 

The question lingered for only a moment. A bird was held out to her silently and she grasped it, awkwardly bending around the searing heat of the flames. Watching how it was done she started plucking. The bird was limp and warm in her hands, wings flopping about, and suddenly the memory of Elladan’s limp body enforced itself on her, submerging her into the horror of that moment. She closed her eyes, paralyzed, reliving every clear detail of the fight for his life. 

“Rin!” his voice soft but pressing, rang clear and pure over the fire, waking her from her traumatic memory. “Forgive me, I did not think the bird would….” He didn’t finish his sentence. 

His warm hand on her shoulder startled her into opening her eyes. How did he move so fast towards her? She stared at him wide-eyed. His understanding was uncanny, like mind reading, just as she remembered it. He knew what was haunting her thoughts and she wondered how it did not haunt his. 

Was this the bond growing once again? She thought back to Tessarion, when his spirit left his body, the emptiness she felt only after he was gone. How could she know if something was growing once more? Since she could not even feel Tessarion connect with her until it was too late? Such a complicated world, interwoven with magic that she could not understand, see or touch. She shook her head. No. It doesn’t matter. Even if there is a bond growing, they betrayed me. 

“It is not your fault. The memory caught me off guard, that is all.” 

He smiled without joy. “Maybe not directly. Still, I am the catalyst of these cause and effect patterns.” 

He still knelt before her, facing her, his breath hot on her face. It seemed as if everything around her was holding its breath. 

“Are you alright now, Rin?” 

Uncomfortable, she nodded silently, holding the plucked bird up to him, to create distance. “How should I clean this?” 

He saw through her design, but nodded nevertheless, conjuring up two knives from underneath his clothes. He showed her how the entrails needed to be removed and the meat cut in such a way that it would be easy to roast above the fire. They worked closely together, their shoulders touching from time to time. Then his movements ceased and his silent voice bounced off the darkness around them. “Rin… I think we should talk….” 

She felt his warm hand on her shoulder, slowly turning her around. His silver-grey eyes stared at her and to her surprise, she saw vulnerability there and a question. 

But the bitterness gained territory in her mind and standing up, harsher than she meant it the words came out. “No. You should talk. I have nothing to say and you….” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Especially you...have made it clear what I am to you both.” 

The hurt was still there, its rawness, surprising her. It was Elladan’s behaviour in Rivendell that had devastated her. Elrohir’s directness she could handle. He used few words, and the ones he used were straight and clear, they either hurt or not. But Elladan’s sudden change towards her when Elrohir was being healed by their father, his passive aggression and refusal to trust her with their truth, hurt her even more than Elrohir’s rejection. 

Elladan, standing up in like, towered over her. Unperturbed by her sharpness, he looked at her with a wistful smile. “Hitting the mark straight on, as ever. I have missed you, Rin.” He raised his hand, caressing her cheek. 

It caught her off guard completely and for a small moment, she closed her eyes. Then she looked up at him, fighting his height, pulling her face away from his grasp violently. 

It was at that moment, Elrohir walked into the clearing, leading Suldal, Raithon following in his wake. He stopped when he noticed the tension between them. 

Rin ignored his presence, still looking up at Elladan. They were standing so close that she could feel his body warmth, his power, his scent. His sudden gentleness pissed her off, because it meant, again, a total disrespect of her feelings. But her planned retort met nothing but air, because he had already turned and walked towards his brother without another word, his power, like a dark caress, following in his wake. 

Elrohir watched him approach. But Elladan strode past him, and the dark that danced around him restlessly, seemed eager to melt into the shadows. At his brother’s departure, Elrohir cast his silver eyes onto her, a slight frown marring his features. And then he disappeared after his sibling. 

Rin sighed. He always followed his brother. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Elladan kept walking away from the warmth of the camp and its fire and into the cold darkness. It felt like plunging into the waters of the Bruinen in winter. But even the dark of night was not enough to cool off the simmering rage he felt. In need to release his tension he started running at high speed and he felt Elrohir chasing him, his power raw and bare, unfocussed, waning and waxing, almost reaching him but not quite. 

He ran until his thoughts were nullified and his breath burned in his lungs. Then he stopped abruptly, leaning one hand against an old tree, waiting for his brother’s fëa latching onto his own, longing for its soothing comfort. It was sobering when he felt only his brother’s arm pinning him against the rough bark of a tree with his arm. Only then, like water bursting from a broken flask, Elrohir’s power washed over him, biting and burning him. He sighed within his brother’s iron hold. There was no comfort to be had, only strife.

“Pray, tell me. What was that about?” Elrohir said through clenched teeth. 

Elladan averted his eyes from the burning gaze of his brother. “What is your concern, Elrohir?” 

Elrohir leaned towards him, still holding him, his grip still strong on his brother, knowing full well Elladan matched him in strength. “That depends. You are behaving like my rival. Secrecy does not suit you, brother.” 

Elladan faltered, but then bit out at him: “I told her we need to talk.” 

“Without me?” 

Elrohir did not hide his emotions, hurt and concern plainly on his features, and beneath that; uncertainty. He let his arm slip away, hanging limp from his body and with it, Elladan felt his rage diminish. 

They stood there only inches apart from each other in the darkness not touching each other. Starlight caught their eyes enhancing the silver in them. 

Elrohir pressed again, his voice emotional and raw: “Are you my rival?” 

Elladan blinked at the words, his mind slow to process their meaning. Were they rivals? Was there a possibility that only one of them would be chosen, leaving the other to sail or die in battle? Elladan knew it was possible and for a moment despair rose in his throat like bile. He felt his brother’s distressed fëa, whirling restlessly around him, reaching out to him. 

No. That would be unbearable. He reached his hand up towards Elrohir, caressing for a moment his clenched jaw. He smiled as he spoke the words he knew to be true. 

“Never.” 

xxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning passed awkwardly. Elrohir and Elladan clearly had a fight and did not speak nor look at each other, nor to her and Raithon. The weather was not helping; damp and cold fog covered their surroundings and the sun seemed far gone. The lack of sunlight dampened her spirits just as much as the twins’ simmering feud did. 

She decided that she had best ignore their tantrum and sought out Raithon’s company, which was pleasant as always. He avoided last night’s scene with diplomacy and skill and she was grateful for it. They talked softly about all things related to weaponry, especially her knowledge of sword making in her own world. She would have ascertained him to be a typical nerd in her culture. He was only interested in technical details and she felt insufficient in providing them. She was no sword forger, her knowledge went only as deep as she was taught by her father and Hideo. Still, their conversation was lively and animated. 

The brothers seemed to regain their good spirits at the end of the day. She could pinpoint the end of their fight easily, a feeling of calm and relief flooding her as if she stood in direct contact with them. 

But her irritation remained in place. Here they were, on a quest to safeguard the future, barely escaped death and still, they were being difficult. It strengthened her resolve to ignore their connection altogether. Arming herself against it. As soon as this business was done. She would find her own way, leaving them to their suffocating little mental circles. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The oak and ash forest grew more open, the trees larger and taller. The horses' hooves made little sound on the thick layer of moulted leaves and earth underneath the yellow and reddish canopy. The autumnal colours were slowly gaining ground on the forest floor. Elrohir and Elladan were guiding them with sure direction on a seemingly invisible path until they could smell woodfire in the distance and hear the sound of a hammer on metal. 

Soon the invisible path seemed more clear and straight, the yellow and red leaves making way to fresh, green grass. A well-trodden path or well kept. The sounds of a village grew stronger and more familiar. Not unlike a village in her homeland; the silence disrupted now and then by a barking dog, laughing children, a baby crying. 

Elladan gazed upwards from time to time, or towards the side, indicating with a move of his head the presence of guards. She never saw them. 

The village itself lay nestled on the edge of the forest, green pastures bordering it on the far side. It reminded her strongly of Shirakawa, a village she travelled through on one of her solitary bike journeys in Japan. Kind of a tourist trap, because of its large amount of traditional houses and it was that type of wooden longhouse that she saw here now. Strong wooden structures, both warehouse, workplace and living quarters, built on poles, roofs made of reed. There were no paved roads, only dirt ones and each house had a small garden where vegetables and animals had their place. 

The villagers were tall and broad-shouldered, hair predominantly raven black and brown. The females seemed less tall, their tread sure and elegant. She saw honest and sober faces and none stood idle, making the place buzzing with activity. Rin decided that it looked absolutely lovely, the familiarity putting her at ease immediately. Looking sideways to her companions, she realised they stood out like sore thumbs, armed to the teeth, the ethereal beauty of the elven warriors extrinsic. 

While passing the first few houses, a small militia approached them. Fifteen men strong, they were all dressed in dark colours, leather under heavy cuirasses, carrying dented swords and chipped shields. They did not look like the rangers of the books to her, more like a reluctant army of peasants. A solemn man dressed in black leather and a mantle set with white fur was leading them. He bowed deeply before the twin brothers and to Rin’s surprise said in broken Sindarin, “Mae Govannen!” He continued in Westron, “My Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir. It has been too long since you graced us with your presence here.”

Elladan and Elrohir slid out of their saddles in unison, laughing, their chagrin disappearing like snow before the sun. They each grabbed the man in a bear hug. “Bahnan! What jest is this? To greet us with such formality!” 

The one called Bahnan laughed sheepishly, touching his hair in a nervous gesture. Then he eyed Rin and Raithon. “Well, I was not sure of the Lady and the Lord in your company. It does not hurt to be polite.” 

Elladan ruffled his hair with a familiar closeness that made her gape, ignoring the man’s concerns about decorum. “Do not fret youngling. Tell us how your teachings go? Do you still practice according to our schedules?” 

The man nodded, visibly embarrassed by being addressed as if he were a boy, Rin mused in surprise. It was clear that the twins had neglected to share the number and depth of friendships they forged in the north. They had intervened with mortal lives far more than any of their kind. Amazed at this realisation, she wondered why they kept this information from their father. These were valuable allies for Rivendell in the battle against their enemies. Could they have found comfort with these human villagers? Their bloodlust made them chase short term satisfaction, clenching revenge day after day, seeking out danger, acting in anger and rage, all to cope with their grief. They did not follow any design, nor plan. Could this human community be more suited to condone or accept their lifestyle? Could elves ever understand them like humans did? 

She decided to save the man from his humiliation by two ancient beings that did not understand fully that he was grown up already. She cleared her throat. The three looked up at her. 

“Will you not introduce us?” 

Elladan’s joy diminished somewhat. He gave a curt nod. “Forgive me. Bahnan, this is Rin and that is Raithon, two warriors from the Guard of Imladris. We are here on urgent business.” 

Bahnan bowed deeply, surprise showing on his face when he seemed to notice that she was not of elven kind, but he did not push the matter. Another surprise, for the twins to present her as one of their kind. What was up with them? What happened to their arrogant comments on the difference in class, race, skill and experience? 

“Urgent business?” Bahnan’s question lingered for a moment in their midst, unanswered. But the solemn faces of the brothers spoke plainly. Still he asked, “Might this be related to the superior wargs and orcs that are roaming our lands as of late? We have lost many men already.” His features turned troubled. 

Elladan’s eyes narrowed. “It seems we have shared experiences then. We have a lot to discuss. Can you gather the elders?” 

Bahnan’s face turned grim. He nodded. “Let me find you accommodation for the night so you can freshen up from your journey. We will speak tonight.” He turned and yelled orders to his men and the militia dispatched in small groups, for each soldier a task to be executed. 

Bahnan led them to the south side of the village. Curious children appeared along the way, with bright eyes, rosy cheeks, tangled hair, some on bare feet, eying them with curiosity and excitement. And soon a string of them ran behind them singing. Their joy over the arrival of these elf warriors, stood in sharp contrast to the vigilance of the adults. Some showed recognition and respect, but others were suspicious. But the suspicion was directed at Raithon and herself, the brothers received nothing but respect. 

Soon they arrived at a large house with a magnificent view over the fields. Upon dismounting, Raithon addressed him softly. “Forgive me, Master Bahnan, before I rest, is there a blacksmith in the village? I have a few items that need mending.”

Bahnan nodded politely. “Of course, Master Raithon. Just take the road to the far north end, there you will find the smithy of Master Celebrim.” 

Raithon stared at him for a moment in bafflement. “Celebrim?” Then he said, musing: “An echo of a famous name and fitting to his trade.” 

Bahnan frowned. “I do not understand your meaning, Master Raithon, but Celebrim is the best in this trade for many miles around. He will mend any weapon or tool you might need fixing.”

When Raithon took off north, she was prevented from entering the house by Bahnan. “Please Lady Rin, this is no fitting accommodation for you. I will settle you elsewhere.”

Not this again! She stared wistfully at the twins being led away from her. She noticed to her chagrin, Elrohir picking up on her irritation. He gave her a quick serious wink. When the twins disappeared in the house, she, in turn, was brought to another one where a blushing brown-haired woman, her own age, let her into a simple room. The wooden furniture was sparse but clean and neat, the coverings on the bed white linen and sheepskins. 

She put her weapons in a corner of the room, draped her mantle on the bed and looked out of the window to the peaceful village. The children had given up the pursuit, now more interested in the male warriors and their lodgings than her. The silence in the room felt suffocating and she sighed deeply, just when the woman returned with two wooden buckets of hot water. 

To her dismay, she noticed next to a washing bowl with steaming water, a simple dress. No doubt for her to wear and be presentable to the males in charge. Well. They had to find somebody else to wear that then. 

“Thank you for aiding me. What is your name? My name is Rin.” 

The woman smiled at her polite question. “My name is Maeva. It is nice to meet you, Lady Rin.” 

“I am no Lady, you can just call me Rin.” 

Maeva looked confused. “But you are travelling in the company of the Lords of Rivendell? Are you not of elven blood? You look so different from us.” Shocked by her own words it seemed, she clasped her hands over her mouth. 

Rin smiled at that. “Don’t worry about it. And yes, you are right, I am not from here. But I am mortal, even if I may not look like it.”

Maeva lowered her hands hesitantly, she looked surprised but did not pursue the matter, focussing on filling the washing bowl with warm water. 

Rin stared at the dress. “Please Maeva”. She held the garment up. “It is not my custom to wear dresses. Can you help me wash my own clothes?” 

Maeva exclaimed with a frown: “No dresses? You are far from home indeed if that is your custom Rin. I have never heard of such a people!” Then she smiled warmly. ‘But you are a guest here and I will help you comfortable if I can. Do you need help to undress?” 

“No, I can do it myself.” Rin peeled her clothes from her body, grimacing at the smell and dirt that caked to her body and clothes. Weeks at a time on horseback would do this to you, she understood all too well why guests were given fresh clothes. 

When stripped naked, Maeva gathered her clothing and wanted to leave the room, when Rin called her. “Maeva, will you make haste with the washing?” 

“Yes, I will. But I fear you will have to wear your clothes wet though. I cannot dry them before the gathering tonight.” She hesitated for a moment on the doorstep. “Lady Gilraen will be vexed with me for giving our esteemed guest wet clothes…..” 

Rin understood the unspoken question. “Maeva, this was my own wish, and I will speak up when she has concerns.” 

Maeva smiled in relief. “Thank you, Rin. Enjoy your bath.” 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

When dusk fell, Maeva led her towards another large house, seemingly located in the middle of the village. Rin felt reluctant as always to meet with a large crowd of strangers, but Maeva’s presence gave her courage. She was led inside a stuffy hall, with a fire ablaze and pipe smoke clouding her vision. It made her eyes swim and sting. At the head of a lengthy wooden table, a dark-haired man sat, clad in a simple brown tunic. A woman with auburn hair sat on his left side, an elderly man with grey hair and beard on his right. 

Rin refused Maeva’s directions towards the lower end of the table carefully and steered herself towards her companions, sitting down between Raithon and Elrohir, determined. The man at the head of the table regarded her with interest, slightly confused about her status and relationship with the elves. 

Elladan introduced her without looking at her. “Lord Arathorn, please let me introduce our companion, Shimizu Rin, or Rin. She is a warrior in our Guard and has accompanied us on the journey north.” 

Arathorn inclined his head. “I am honoured to meet you Shimizu Rin. This is Lord Benran, our village Elder and this is my wife, Lady Gilraen.” 

Their names hit her almost physically. She knew these names as if they were engraved in her mind. But how had she not remembered in advance? And what were the odds of her finding Aragorn’s parents just spot on in the first village they encountered? On top of that she arrived just in time, Gilraen seemed to be in the last stages of her pregnancy, her face tired but glowing. 

She never believed in higher powers, in a god or gods, but since her arrival in Middle Earth, her convictions shook and crumbled. There seemed to be more here, more than met her eye. Intuition, a quality that she always attributed to keen senses and attention to detail, was becoming just as trustworthy as sight or smell. The feeling increased when the twins were close. And this sense of a higher purpose, of forces that worked behind her visual world, seemed to peak towards this very moment and it appeared to her that she was meant to arrive right here at this very point in time. She staggered inwardly at the enormity of that idea, wondering if she was slowly going nuts. 

Scrambling to find a reply she said hastily: “Thank you for your kind welcome, Lord Arathorn, Lady Gilraen, Lord Benran. And may I congratulate you with the coming of your son?”

She felt the three elves around her stiffen at her words, growing eerily silent. Arathorn eyed her strangely. Benran stared at her in amazement. She realised her mistake and cursed herself. Opening her mouth to lessen the awkwardness, nothing came out. The silence stretched.

Then Arathorn shared a quick look with his wife and Gilraen watched her with a glowing satisfied expression. “Do not fret, dear guest. I have known all along that I carry a boy under my heart.” she smiled, her hand involuntarily caressing her belly. 

Her calm eyes assessed Rin with interest. “Tell me.” she continued. “Do you possess elven blood? Is that why you have foresight and travel with the Lords of Rivendell?” 

Rin gaped at her. How to counter this one? She smiled uneasily. “No, I am just a human, Lady Gilraen. I was lost in the wild with no memory of how I came to be there. They found me and gave me a place among them.”

The calm intelligence in the woman’s eyes peaked. “I see, still, I feel there is something special about you, Rin Shimizu. I can feel it, just as I can feel my son's heart beating steady inside of me. It is fortunate our paths crossed.” 

Rin stared at her, feeling the hairs on her neck rise, goosebumps on her arms. You should be glad indeed. You and your son are in great danger. But she kept these ominous thoughts to herself. It would not do to venture these notions out loud and barge into a diplomatic meeting like an elephant. 

The conversation seemed to end there and they resumed their quiet talking with the twins. Nothing about the imminent threat was discussed, she noticed, they talked of the hunt, the migration of animals, the lives of children, the seasons and the harvest. Small everyday subjects and problems that any village encountered; who died, who gave birth, who married. It was soothing to listen to such normality. She was not surprised they saved the serious conversations for later. It was no different from the stages in diplomatic meetings in her own world. 

Somebody provided her with a wooden bowl of stew and a large pull of beer and for a moment she forgot to listen to the ongoing discussions of their hosts and the twins, their words swallowed by the merry racket around her. Raithon on her left was, like her, not partaking in the discussions. 

She softly whispered to him. “How was the smith?”

“Quite accomplished for a mortal. I have instructed him how to repair my dagger. Tomorrow I will aid him in the smithy as payment. His mind is quick and his character modest. He will benefit greatly.””

She laughed at him softly. ‘Really? That will be his lucky day! Way too much payment for repairing a mere dagger.” 

He smiled at her. “It will be an interesting experience for both of us. It is not often I cross paths with mortals. Their short lifespan throws me off balance. I find it hard to align with their rash life decisions, often focussed on short term solutions.”

She blinked at him. “Is that what you think of me?”

He smiled warmly at her. “Well, there is something special about you, dear friend. I think it is not mere chance that the sons of Elrond happened upon you in the wild. Just as it is not mere chance that made you decide to travel here, a place where Lord Elladan and Elrohir have forged strong bonds during their lost years, or so it would seem.” 

“Well, that makes me feel nervous Raithon as if I am expected to do something brilliant soon. But I can assure you. I am just a girl, lost in a strange new world that is not my home.” 

“Just a girl?” he laughed at that. “You are no mere girl…. If you keep saying that, I must insist on denying it. First of all, you are a woman. Second, you are an exceptional swordsman and also intelligent, kind and remarkable in the way you engage with life around you. And somehow you have managed to reach through my Lord’s son’s headstrong mental defences, within a matter of days. We had given up hope many centuries ago, Rin.”

She stared ahead of her, chewing on a piece of carrot. “I did not penetrate their defences, Raithon. We are at odds with each other still.” 

His laugh turned serious when he cast a glance towards the twins caught up in conversation. He said softly in her ear. “I think you are underestimating yourself. Their walls have crumbled and their issues are clear for all to see, but none is willing to speak his mind. Maybe our bravest companion should breach this status quo?”

She sobered up. “No. They should start to gain my trust first. They have betrayed me. I cannot feel past the anger and pain of that!” And to emphasize her words, she pricked ferociously into another carrot in her stew. 

Raithon sighed. “I fear they are lost, Rin and they have been lost for many centuries. Their demise has been felt and mourned for so long now in Imladris, that many of us cannot unsee this truth about them and lost hope of their return to the light. It pains us to see our Lord being forced to mourn them every day. Their death might have been easier to bear. But their path has been set in stone since the day they brought back their mother. They lost something within the roots of those mountains, some part of themselves and they have turned into a dark force that hungers for blood and revenge without ever being satisfied. Their enemies cower before their dark light. I believe it is time that somebody gives them another direction to consider, to give up on short term goals, to embrace their nature and birth right once more.” 

“You give me too much credit Raithon. How can I make them give up their short term revenge when I am only mortal?” 

“I believe you underestimate your influence on them.” He stared at her with his wise brown eyes, the lines around his eyes emphasizing his gentle encouragement. 

“I am scared,” she confessed. 

Raithon grasped her hand underneath the table. “Aren’t we all?” Squeezing her hand one last time, he excused himself and walked towards a young man at the end of the table, the blacksmith no doubt. His approach caused great apprehension among the man and his companions and once again she noticed the unearthly appearance of the elves compared to the humans here. 

She mulled over his words, drinking the bitter but weak beer in her mug. Fear. Together with rage, they were her constant companions for many years. Fear to feel something. Fear to lose more than she already had. Fear of connecting with somebody. Fear of being betrayed. Fear of love. But what was she afraid of exactly with the twins? 

If being asked mere weeks ago, she would have known the answer to that without thinking. The fear of losing them. But now, weeks later, all had seemingly shifted and she felt determined to let them go. But doubt was there and her strong feelings of attraction were difficult to ignore, but not impossible. 

Tessarion had shown her that she was still capable of love, broken as she was. Could she reach beyond the anger and pain of their betrayal? She felt unsure. To admit to her feelings, to admit the need to be with them made her fear of their rejection all the greater. To be cast out from their togetherness all over again. To lose again the right to claim them for her own. So Rin told her herself she did not care. That she did not need them. That she would find her own way in life. But in a small part of her mind, after Elladan’s ordeal, she knew one thing for certain. There was only one path towards love for her, if she chose it. And that path led to them. And once again, she wondered exasperated why they pushed her away in the first place. And why they would not speak of it to her. 

Sometime after she finished her stew and beer, Maeva had joined her in conversation. The woman was pleasant company and to her own surprise she opened up to her without any hesitation. It felt good to talk of mundane subjects instead of conversing with high elf lords about the end of Middle Earth. And before she knew it, Maeva had changed her beer pull again for a full one and they were giggling, whispering in each other’s ear. 

“So, what is his name again, Maeva?” 

“Darian. It is the dark-haired one at the end of the table.” 

Rin giggled. “They all have dark hair!” 

“The one with the light-coloured eyes! He is seated next to Master Celebrim. Do you see him now?” 

She saw a young blushing man with dark brown hair and light eyes. His attention was focused on Raithon, following all he said with an intense look, sparing none for his female admirer. 

“He is very handsome, Maeva!” 

Maeva blushed like a rose, unable to utter another word. Rin laughed at her. 

“Well. Why are you shy now all of a sudden? Did his eye catch yours yet?” 

“I am not sure…. I hope so. But it is hard to seek each other out. We both have our duties.” 

“Maybe you should elope! One night underneath furs on a hilltop can make all the difference in the world!” Maeva’s shriek reached the beams of the ceiling but vanished in the general noise in the great hall. The women both laughed out loud. Until Maeva decided they needed more ale and disappeared in between the people. 

Rin tried to regain her composure. It was amazing! She had not felt so carefree for years. Could it be that she too, like the twins, was subtly changing? And while the smile was still plastered on her face, her eyes connected with Elladan. 

He stared at her, his gaze undecipherable and intense as always. She stared back, inclining her head in recognition. Then, Elladan looked to his host, something he said catching his attention. 

When fatigue took hold of her and Maeva had excused herself already to go to bed, their hosts ushered the folk out of the hall, until only Arathorn, Gilraen, Bahnan and Benran remained. The sound of the fire seemed loud all of a sudden. Sobered, Arathorn leaned forward in his chair, staring at the twins. “Now tell me, friends, what are the ill tidings that brought you to the north this time.” 

Elladan spoke, his soft voice carrying over the table. “It seems we have shared experiences with a special breed of orcs, if I understand Bahnan correctly. It is the reason we ventured North. We wish to issue our warning and give counsel if wanted.” 

Arathorn turned grave. “Speak your mind then, Lord Elladan. Your advice has never led us astray before. I will gladly hear it.” 

“Very well, but be warned then, Lord Arathorn, for I am not gifted with foresight like my father. But I will give you counsel if you wish it.” 

Arathorn nodded in understanding. 

“These wargs and orcs are steered by a collected evil mastermind and seem highly advanced, both in intelligence as in force. A physically inferior orc is leading them. He is called Gorchack by the others. He leads expertly in a manner unusual for their kind.” 

Bahnan sighed. “It is as we feared, we do share these experiences, although his name is new to me. This is grave news indeed. A dark force is rising in the North once more. These lands will no longer be safe.” 

Elladan continued. “The Imladris Guard battled them, led by Captain Tessarion. It cost the life of many warriors, for they were ill prepared for such a force. Lord Glorfindel came to their aid, but we could not prevent Captain’s Tessarion’s death.”

A shocked silence fell. Arathorn spoke hesitantly. “The Guard of Imladris almost lost this battle?”

Raithon added softly. “It is true my Lord. I served under Captain Tessarion. We knew the whereabouts of several smaller groups. Their roaming of our lands is not unusual. We scouted far ahead and dealt with them as we saw fit. But we were ignorant of their communication system through the wargs. It was how they could unite into a fearsome force in such a short time, without our knowledge and strike when we were vulnerable. It was Lord Elrond’s foresight that saved us for he sent out the second Guard in search of us. But still our Captain fell.” The grief was etched on his face and he fell silent. 

Arathorn spoke gently. “I am sorry for these losses, Master Raithon. His enemies were strong. It was an honorable death to fall for the safety of the realm. But this news is graver than I thought. It is a miracle we only encountered smaller groups. We have yet to meet such a force.” 

Elladan stared at him pointedly. “I fear we have more ill tidings.” 

All three watched him warily. 

“They have targeted your line of descent.” 

A deep silence fell. 

It was there in the open. She stared at Elladan in confusion, so he knew as well? He led her here, because they already knew? So many questions popped into her mind simultaneously that she just felt static.

Elrohir looked at Gilraen. “Tell me, Lady Gilraen. Have you chosen a name yet for your son?” 

All ill tidings forgotten instantly, she could not help but glow, her hand on her belly. “Aragorn. We will name him Aragorn.” 

Even with all her knowledge and expectations, suspicions, it felt like a shock. The name clicked in her brain and for a second time she felt goosebumps rise. The twins shared a meaningful look with her, but kept silent, watching her expectantly. She felt what they wanted from her. 

After a moment of hesitation, she cleared her throat. “Lady Gilraen, I believe Gorchak targeted your son. We are here to offer our aid in protecting him. Rivendell is the safest place for your family to be. We mean to take you there.” 

Where she expected strife, she saw apprehension but also resignation. It seemed that the advice of the Lords of Imladris was held in high esteem here. Good. It would make this easier. 

Arathorn, twirling his glass of beer in his strong hands, was staring towards the fire for a moment. The worry was plain to see on his strong face. “We need to send out scouts to the other settlements. All must prepare for battle.” 

Elrohir nodded. “We wish to offer our aid.” 

Arathorn looked up to him. “Forgive me my Lords. This is a lot to take in. One does not leave his home easily, no matter what the reason.” 

Elladan nodded, face still grave. “Will you heed our counsel, my Lords?” 

Arathorn stared at Gilraen for a moment. A long searching look that was met with loving warmth. His hand searched hers and when they clasped together they seemed to come to an understanding. Then he shared a look with Benran and Bahnan. Both men looked grimly at their Lord, squaring their shoulders in full understanding of the meaning of such a turn of events. 

Arathorn turned towards Elladan. “We will heed your advice and see our son safe to Rivendell. But I must help my people first.” 

Rin let out a shaky breath. Previously unnoticed tension seemed to be released instantly and she felt relieved. 

Lord Benran spoke at long last, his deep voice rolling over the table. “Very well. Let us speak tactics then my Lords. We need to reach our kin and speed is of utmost importance if we wish to outrun these creatures. Let us summon our fastest men.” 

All happened fast after that. Scouts were dispatched, young men, each one of them. Rin grew worried. Despite the resolve in their eyes and voices, she recognized apprehension and inexperience. Raithon’s hand rested upon her shoulder and his voice sounded in her ear. “Do not worry yourself. Only speed is important now.” She nodded in understanding. 

It was agreed upon that Elladan, Elrohir and Raithon would ride out as well that night. To her relief she was asked to stay and safeguard Gilraen if need would arise. A task that suited her better since their surroundings were foreign to her. And secretly she longed for the soft bed with sheepskins that was waiting for her. She could not fathom how the elves were coping. 

In the light of many torches, she stood watching them readying their horses. Shivering she wrapped her mantle more closely around her, her breath a white wispy cloud. The darkness around them felt close and suffocating. The sounds of the forest nearby, did not comfort her. Would they be safe? Where were the orcs now? Would they loom within the darkness of the trees, waiting for their prey? 

To her relief, the Dunedain scouts would travel in pairs for safety. The twins would both go their separate ways, travelling towards the more Northern settlements. Raithon would accompany one pair of Dunedain since he was unfamiliar with the terrain. A pair of seasoned Dunedain had already left the village. 

The last pair of scouts seemed incredibly young to her, raven black hair, dark eyes. They were maybe five years her juniors. But they seemed determined and eager to leave. She approached them while grabbing her dagger. “Please… take this dagger with you. It will glow when orcs are close by.” The eldest of the pair took the weapon in awe. “Thank you, My Lady. That will be a true aid on our journey.” 

“Good. Just bring it back to me, will you?” The boy nodded and tucked the knife underneath his tunic. 

The calling of her name distracted her. Turning, she was faced with Elladan and Elrohir. 

“That is a wise gift to grant them, even though I would have liked you to have it with you.” Elladan nodded approvingly. 

“They need it more, they do not have my sword skills. I worry for them.” 

Elrohir cut in. “You do not worry for us, then?” 

The question was so outrageously unexpected and…. funny…. that she could not help but grin at them. 

Elrohir’s eyes twinkled mischievously. 

“More worried for your enemies I think. Try not to play with them too much.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Well. That hurts I guess.” 

Elladan grasped her shoulder, squeezing it one last time. “Be safe, Rin. You need your skill and wit more than ever to shoulder this threat. Make sure to keep watchful?” 

“I will.” She bit her lower lip, getting lost in the silver grey of their eyes. A myriad of thoughts and feelings forced themselves upon her, but she only said. “Come back to me.” 

Determination shone in their eyes and features. 

“We will.” And with those parting words they mounted. The horses started to move even before they hit the saddle and she could feel how they gathered their power like a cloak around them. The heaviness and strength seemed to enhance their presence and all men felt compelled to stare at them, unable to look away from the Elf Lords in their power. And then their horses picked up speed, thundering towards the looming darkness that swallowed them whole. 

She stood for a long time, listening to the horses’ hooves dying away. Then Lady Gilraen herself led her towards her lodging and there she fell into a dark velvet sleep underneath warm sheepskins.


End file.
